


even in war, i trust you

by smolgreeneyedavenger



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Civil War, Civil War Team Captain America, Civil War Team Iron Man, F/M, Feelings, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolgreeneyedavenger/pseuds/smolgreeneyedavenger
Summary: She once asked him if he would trust her. He had said yes. He later asked her if she would trust him. Against everything, she said yes.Oh, how they would be tested.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 80
Kudos: 177





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been cooking up for awhile! I can't promise chapters will come every week-- more likely, every month-- but I will try my best! Set during Civil War and after, this story follows my romanogers babies; their feelings, their struggles, and their ultimate return to each other :) 
> 
> I DO NOT OWN ANY BIT OF MARVEL! A few lines are straight from the movies and one scene at the end is seen in the movie, though I didn't use everything!

_The Avengers Compound, New York City_.

“Was it me?” Natasha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It almost unnerved her to see Steve Rogers, Captain America, a hero, a once World War 2 soldier, her partner and leader, sitting on her bed, his hands nervously tangling around each other. He was even struggling to look her in the eye and form words. In that moment, dread filled Natasha’s senses and she had to ask that horrible question; the question that had been plaguing her since he had left in a hurry that morning, leaving the Accords on the coffee table, clutching his phone close to him and never looking back. _Was it me?_

She had agreed with Tony. She had agreed with the Accords. Steve had stared at her for a long time, trying to read her like a book, as she conveyed her reasoning. The Avengers had made mistakes. Maybe they needed boundaries. She wasn’t with him on this. Usually, she would justify herself— and win—, hate him for even expecting her to follow him to the ends of the earth. She had her own mind, it wouldn’t matter if she disagreed with Steve once in a while. But she didn’t do any of that. Because Steve wasn't like that. He wouldn’t run out on her just because she disagreed with him. He knew who she was. He respected who she was. She had asked the question— _was it me?_ — but she knew, she really knew there was another reason.

He looked hurt when he finally stared up at her, the words suddenly sinking into his groggy thoughts. His lips parted, ready to say something. But he stopped. Natasha, dressed in her pajamas, her hair a mess over her shoulders, felt her heartbeat quicken. Maybe she had been wrong. But suddenly, Steve shook his head so quickly, a strand of hair falling in his forehead. “Oh, no, no, no. Nat, no.” He stared at her, a storm of emotions shadowing his face, every line, every perfection. “Peggy died this morning.”

The air was sucked out of her. Every worry in Natasha’s head suddenly disappeared. Steve ducked his head again, his hands finding his scalp. Natasha stood frozen for a long time, awkward silence filling between them. He had left. With grief, so much grief, for the death of the love of his life. Peggy Carter had died that morning. And she was just now finding out about it. The own worries she had been struggling with that day seemed to small, so insignificant, to the pain he was going through. She couldn’t imagine.

“I just needed… time,” he muttered around a shaky breath. “I should’ve been prepared for this. She was in hospice— I knew. I knew it would be any day. I—” He didn’t finish and she suddenly found herself moving towards him. He was holding back the tears, he was trying to smother the emotions that were killing him.

Natasha fell to her knees in front of him, tugging his hands away from his head. “Steve,” she whispered, somehow feeling all the pain slip into her own skin, her own heart. “Steve,” she tried again, slipping in between his legs. He inhaled sharply but he still didn’t meet her eye. “I’m so, so sorry.” So close to him now, she cupped his face, promoting him to look at her. His blue-green eyes stared back, tears pooling the edges but he didn’t let them drop. It pained her more than she would’ve ever believed. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered again.

Steve’s face softened, like he had finally heard her, finally realized how close she was. He bit his lip before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers. He was so quick, slipping his arms around her and pulling her closer. She stared at him as his eyes finally closed, one tear slipping from his lashes, before pulling back and slipping her arms around his neck. She squeezed further in the hug, allowing him to cry into her, his body so strong and yet so weak against hers.

Suddenly, the Accords and Tony and Lagos seemed so far away. Almost like they had happened years ago. All that was here was a broken man, crying into the arms of a woman who had blood on her own hands, but who would stay with him for however long he needed her. It was all that mattered in that moment.

____________________

Natasha stared at the bed he had sat on, the every spot in the ground where her knees had dug into the carpet. He had wrapped her into his chest and cried. That felt like decades ago. In reality, it had been less than seven days before. She was in the computer chair across the room, slipping a needle and thread through her shoulder. A open gash reaching from her left shoulder down to her bicep still leaked blood as she pressed the needle into the skin. Her fingers twitched every time she made another stitch. She bit her lip against the pain, determined to finish up the wound before anyone could come in and try rushing her to a doctor. She could take care of herself. She always did.

The plan in the German airport had been simple. Convince Steve to come with them. Warn him about Ross, give him another chance before the Avengers couldn’t help anymore. They could've helped Barnes. Steve could’ve come home. But he had refused all the offers. In fact, it seemed to Natasha, he didn't even bother thinking the offers over. In mere seconds, the Avengers, and any others that had been recruited over 24 hours, had fought each other like enemies; pinning partners to the ground, shooting others in the sky, kicking and wounding each other to surrender. Arrows and webs had covered the walls, red power had lifted cars and planes along the airport, there had even been a Goliath stomping his feet along the pavement.

Natasha, herself, had fought Clint, dodging his blows and sending her own good ones, getting him in the jaw and the ribs before he had somehow pinned her to the ground. They had sparred exactly like it before and, as usual, they were holding back on each other. _We’re still friends, right?_ The struggle didn’t end before she was thrown against a wall by Wanda. The air had caught in her lungs so tight, the pain shooting from the base of her skull down her spine. Wanda hadn't been playing. Natasha had also been thrown back by an exploding truck thrown by Steve and Scott Lang. And she had been wounded by King T’Challa.

She tensed as a knock rapped at her door but she never took her eyes away from her wound. “It’s open,” she called, biting back a sting of pain. The door opened and she could immediately sense it was someone who had never entered her room. They were tentative as they stepped onto the carpet.

“Miss Romanoff?” a man’s voice came through and Natasha inwardly groaned. She glanced over her wounded shoulder, finding a young man in the doorway, a tablet in one hand, his cap he had respectfully taken off in the other. A gun was strapped to his hip and his suit looked that of army. No doubt he worked for Ross.

She nodded to him before looking back at her wound. “How can I help you?”

He took another step in the room. “I’ve been ordered by my superior to go over these charges by King T’Challa.” She finished her stitching and secured a knot which caused her to release a sharp breath. The soldier didn’t notice. She clipped the long thread with the scissors. She heard the man shuffle around with his tablet before taking a breath. “Captain Rogers has been missing for over five hours now. The king claims you let him go.”

Natasha looked up at him for a second before dropping the needle down in a small bowl of water left on her desk. Small streaks of blood filled the surface. “No comment,” she muttered, grabbing a cotton ball and the ointment bottle.

The soldier grunted. “I’m afraid—”

Natasha dropped the ointment and glared at him. “King T’Challa wouldn’t lie to your superior. I’m supposing that’s Ross, correct?” The soldier just blanched, unsure of his next move. “The King was determined to getting his father’s killer— he wouldn’t lie about how he lost Barnes. Take his word for it.”

“So you’re guilty of these charges?”

Natasha laughed but it was strained and harsh. She looked back at the cotton ball and drenched it with the ointment. Now wet and smelly, she pressed the cotton against her wound. “Whatever.” The ointment was cold and she felt the sting of it cleaning but ignored it underneath her growing annoyance of the soldier.

It was silent in the room for a long moment before she heard him starting for the door again. She glanced back at him just to see the door shut behind him. He had nothing else to ask her. Nothing else to confirm. _She was guilty of the charges_. It didn’t change anything.

Natasha continued taking care of her wound. She pressed a few layers of gauze in the wound before wrapping her whole bicep with the gauze, pinning it closed. She had taken care of so many wounds in her lifetime, this was becoming second nature. Once secure, she shook her shoulder softly, letting warmth slip through her fingers as she flexed them back in and out. She pulled her computer chair back and started collecting her tools, chucking the scissors and cotton ball in the bowl of water. She brought it all back to the bathroom, dropping it on the counter. She snatch a glance at herself in the mirror, surprised she looked rather well. She looked calm, put together, ready.

She was in actuality, exhausted.

She moved back into the bedroom, pulling the leather jacket from a nearby chair and pulling it across her shoulders. “Screen on,” she commanded, moving back to the desk. The computer came to life and FRIDAY’s voice echoed in the room.

_“Newest feed, Natasha?” _Besides hacking and researching, Natasha mostly always used the computer to catch up on news feeds. FRIDAY seemed to know this.__

__“Yes, please.” She pulled the computer chair back and sank into it, easing her shoulder gently against the back of it. She immediately grimaced at the articles and newscast members pulling up pictures and reciting words written for them about Captain America and his rouge team. They didn’t have much information— no one was in the airport but the Avengers— but Ross had already made a statement and people knew Steve Rogers had fled. How and why? They didn’t really know the truth._ _

____

Words and statements sifted in and out of Natasha’s ears. _Captain America flees. The Accords still missing many signatures. Tony Stark bound to make a statement in the next few hours. German citizens missed plane flights since being evacuated due to Avengers work. This is just another reason why The Accords should be in place._

____

“Mute,” Natasha finally mumbled, keeping her eyes on the blurry pictures of Captain America, James Barnes and the Falcon, handcuffed and pushed into a line. The cameraman was lucky to snap a picture like that in Romania. It was the last they would probably get of Barnes, at least.

____

_____________________

____

_Germany. 48 hours before._

____

____

“No one has tried to fly your suit,” Natasha chuckled, but her teasing melted in the air. Sam stared up at her, his shoulders hunched over as he leaned his elbows into the table. He was annoyed. Annoyed with her. Maybe even annoyed with Steve. But mostly annoyed with the whole situation. She couldn’t blame him.

____

He had been dragged into the army base like a common criminal. In their defense, Sam Wilson was just that. He had defied the laws, infiltrated the capital of Romania, fought their police and caused a great deal of damage in the city. All while chasing down James Buchanan Barnes. And he had done it suited as the Falcon. An Avenger. He hadn’t been alone, of course. Captain America had been taken in as well and he had given no indication of guilt. Of course, he didn’t. Natasha wouldn’t expect anything else. He was chasing down his best friend. He would’ve brought him back to the States if he could have and he didn’t care if anyone knew it.

____

As much as Natasha wanted to be annoyed with them both… she couldn’t be, completely. They were still Avengers, they were used to traveling anywhere to do what they needed to do. The Accords, though, didn’t allow it anymore. But it wasn’t their unfamiliarity with the new laws that kept her from strangling them. She knew them. They were friends. They were trying to help Steve’s old pal from his childhood. Steve had been tracking him down since S.H.I.E.L.D. was dismantled. The Winter Soldier had been hiding for so long. Steve wouldn’t have sacrificed a chance to save him. She couldn’t hate him for that. And both Steve and Sam had sacrificed so much in their past few years as Avengers. They didn’t rightly deserve to be treated like this… right?

____

It wouldn't matter what she believed in the end, anyway. This was how Ross was taking care of it. And Natasha had signed the Accords. She had to follow through and close up her feelings.

____

Sam looked away from Natasha, chewing on his lower lip. His eyes skimmed their surrounding, the agents passing them by, the computers and nearby phones humming and beeping. “What an operation,” he mumbled and Natasha couldn’t help dragging her eyes across the perimeter. A couple hundred men and woman worked in the base, under the command of Everett Ross. Veteran and now Deputy Task Force Commander. What a title. Natasha knew little of the operation; only that Ross had her dispatched there after Vienna, and that they seemed capable of the job. A job S.H.I.E.L.D. would’ve had back in the day.

____

Natasha smacked the folder on the table and pulled back the chair opposite him. She sank into it and sighed, rubbing her palms into her face. They were in a closed in office, a glass box in the far side of the room. There was another like it in the center of the hub, where Steve and Tony were now. Tony had acted like it would all be fine as he went to talk with Steve. But Natasha could sense his desperation. If he didn’t convince Steve now…

____

“Natasha?” Natasha pulled her hands down and stared back at Sam, finding the annoyance gone and replaced with… worry. “You okay?” Something warmed in her chest and she couldn’t help relaxing just a tad. “Yeah,” she breathed, sitting up straight again. “Yeah, it’s just been… well, it’s been a few challenging hours.” She leaned over, sliding the folder back in front of her. She opened it and glanced down at the paper. Sam’s face stared back at her on the paper, alongside his description, his history as a soldier, his abilities. She knew it all. Under this paper was Steve’s file. Then another with a list of questions and statements under that. She was supposed to read it all to him. The rest were some of the long, long papers of the Accords. It was a heavy folder. She closed the folder and looked back at Sam. “Why did you go, Sam? Why did you go after Barnes too?”

____

Sam immediately stiffened but he didn’t pull his eyes away from hers. “Steve asked me to.”

____

“He just asked?” 

Sam finally looked away, his fingers scraping against some deformity in the table’s wood. “You would’ve done the same thing.”

____

It stung, though Natasha wasn’t sure Sam meant it to. No… maybe he did mean it to. Natasha and Steve had been through so much together, depending on each other to the end. They had taken down HYDRA, and S.H.I.E.L.D. along with it, fought aliens and robots, led the Avengers, lived together. Sam believed Natasha should’ve been with them. Fighting against the Accords, going rogue with them. Like it was just that simple. _Would you trust me to do it?_ Natasha and Steve’s relationship was built on total trust. She still trusted him. She hoped to God he hadn’t lost his trust in her. But she couldn’t be on his side every time.

____

“Not this time, Sam,” she forced the words out like they had been bitter staying on her tongue. He stayed quiet for a moment, no intention of arguing with her. She shook her head and pushed the folder out of her way, folding her hands together on the table. “Sam… this isn’t just you helping your buddy out anymore. You’re lucky your charade didn’t end like it did in Lagos.”

____

“You were there in Lagos, Nat! You know that wasn’t our fault.”

____

Natasha shook her head. Lagos. The very thing that had gotten them in this situation. A simple stakeout had blown into street fights. She had run through streets, knocking over business stalls of fruits and ceramic crafts, taking down two fighters in the dust. Steve had fought Brock Rumlow in the middle of a crowd. Wanda had let loose a bomb of power, blowing through a building full of people. The mission had gotten out of control and people had died. “Not our fault, no. But it doesn’t matter now. By the Accords, we should’ve never been there in the first place." She let a silence settle between them before knocking her knuckles on the wood. “You are breaking laws at this point, Sam.”

____

He blinked. “I didn’t sign those damn Accords,” he muttered.

____

Natasha pulled back, scoffing. He really believed that still mattered. “Avengers signatures are already on those papers. Countries have backed it up. It’s been passed. Small Sam Wilson and legendary Steve Rogers' signatures don’t matter now. You break these laws, whether you agree to them or not.”

____

A muscle in Sam’s cheek twitched. She leaned back in her chair, now avoiding his eye. She ran a hand through her hair but had the mind to pull it out just as quickly. Nervous ticks showed a weakness. And it would ruin her hair. She looked back at him and sighed. “Sam.” He was now staring at his interlaced fingers, his lips screwed up to one side of his face. She leaned back over the table. “I know you wanted to help Steve. A year ago I may have done the same. But… but it’s not that easy anymore. We now have a standard to live by. You’ll both be prosecuted if you make another move like this again.”

____

Sam finally looked back at her and she cleared her throat. “Tony and I can do something about it, though. We can get you back to the States, get Barnes in a psychiatry center. We can fix this.”

____

Sam glanced at the folder and then back at her. “Let me guess… on account that I sign.”

____

Natasha pressed her lips together… and nodded.

____

Sam shook his head. “I’m not doing anything until Steve does.”

____

Natasha cocked her head, irritation surfacing. “Why? You can’t decide for yourself? You do know Rogers is capable of being wrong a few times, right?”

____

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “But I trust him on this.”

____

Natasha stared at him a long moment, her pulse skipping. His words dulled in her head. Trust. Sam trusted Steve. She couldn’t blame him for that. She dropped her head and groaned. A wall crumbled. “Why did this all have to happen? All in a few hours.”

____

Sam’s chair squeaked as he moved it closer to the table. “Nat?”

____

“First the Accords, now Barnes.” She felt a headache coming on. She had been awake for hours— she had just travelled from Vienna— she couldn’t remember the last time she ate and now Tony was expecting her to stay for Barnes’s questioning. She needed to be there. She would be fine. She looked back up, pulling her hands down her head, smoothing her hair. She found Sam staring at her, concern and confusion written on his face. “I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s just… well, this is gonna be a longer day than I anticipated.”

____

A small smile came to Sam’s face and though it didn't reach his eyes, it made her feel better all the same. The side door of the glass box suddenly opened and the mood changed.

____

Goosebumps slipped down the skin of her arms as Sam immediately straightened in his seat. She took in a steady breath before looking down the room and finding Steve there, one hand still on the door handle. “Oh, hello,” she muttered, leaning back into her chair. She looked back at Sam for a second, swaying a hand out in the air. “Care to join us?” She said it as if they were having a tea party in the room. Steve stared at her for a long moment before his eyes dragged to Sam’s. His silence was annoying. And threatening… for some reason. Natasha tensed when he glanced back at her.

____

“Did you know about Wanda?” Natasha frowned. The question was simple. But it was the very last question she expected. And now, she wasn’t sure why. Tony would’ve said something. Steve stood still as he stared at her, his eyes narrowed, his free hand curled into a fist. Anger. It rolled off him like waves and Natasha could feel it all.

____

“What about Wanda?” Sam immediately asked and dread suddenly dropped to the pit of Natasha’s stomach. She dropped her eyes to table.

____

When Natasha didn’t say anything, Steve finally moved to the table. “Wanda is being kept at the compound.” She felt his eyes on her but she didn’t look up. “Tony’s calling it protection for her. But it’s just a guise, isn’t it? She can’t leave.”

____

Sam scoffed. “She’s under house arrest?”

____

“She’s a prisoner there. And Natasha knows it,” Steve growled.

____

Natasha finally rolled her eyes and looked up at him. “‘Prisoner’ is bit exaggerated,” she started, but regretted it when Steve’s anger seemed to boil now. It was a matter of time before he exploded. She should've never teased. She mentally kicked herself. Instead, she shook her head and straightened her back. “It wasn’t my call to make, anyway.”

____

“You sure didn’t stand in it’s way, though, did you?” he said, his voice clear and bold. Natasha glared up at him. He glared back.

____

“Well, how would you know? Hmm? You’re off chasing a crazed buddy of yours all over Romania! You weren’t here to help, see the red tape Tony had to go through. Not to mention, you haven't even taken the time to maybe listen to me!” Steve just glared. She threw her hands in the air and leaned back over the table. “You have no idea what’s been going on around here.” He didn’t know about the nerves that both she and Tony were sharing. The deals and conditions they had made. The warnings they had to hear from Everett.

____

She gripped the huge folder she had almost forgotten about, sliding it back in front of her. “There was nothing I could do about Wanda. Ross was going to put her in prison. Tony did the only thing he could.” She flipped open the folder, just to keep her hands busy and to avoid eye contact. “He barely listens to Tony as it is. And the only reason he might listen is because Tony is speaking for the Avengers. He still needs us.”

____

“Tony doesn't speak for this Avenger.”

____

When she looked back at Steve, she found his facial structure was the same. His jaw was still clenched and he was scowling at her. His breathing had become deep, as if he was breathing past the anger. But the look in his eyes had changed. It as the look of sincere, unrestrained disappointment. _Betrayal_. But not her betrayal to him. Her betrayal of Wanda.

____

She looked away.

____

Startling her, Steve leaned over the table and snatched the folder from her. She stifled a gasp but allowed him to pull it back, flipping the top open. He would find Sam’s file. His under it. The lists, the Accords. One paper with empty spots. Waiting for his and Sam’s signatures. Natasha watched him school his features but still noticed the red heat that rushed to his cheeks. He glanced back at her for a second before looking at Sam. Natasha had almost forgotten he was there, he was so quiet and still. He was giving them space, like he always did.

____

Steve sighed before chucking the folder to the ground. Paperclips snapped as the paper floated to the ground, splitting apart and landing in a scatter. It was the only sound in the room, crisp and soft. “I’m not signing those papers. I’m not taking Tony’s deals. And I’m not giving in to the pressure Ross has put on you.”

____

It hurt. But he was being honest. He was always honest.

____

Natasha shrugged, shoving the pain of his words deep down. “There’s nothing more I can do, then.” Her voice was quieter than she had expected but the energy to worry about it had somehow vanished.

____

The silence became tense as they gathered themselves. Sam stayed completely silent, his breathing the only proof he was still there. Natasha folded her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes on the weird patterned carpet beneath her. Steve turned away for a moment, his eyes on the agents and their computers, flipping maps and documents across the screens. No one paid them attention.

____

Finally, Natasha shook her head a bit, pushing hair from her face. “Sam, can you give us a minute?” Her voice floated through the oh, so silent room and she was glad it now sounded normal; sharp and sure. After a small moment, Sam’s chair squeaked as he turned. Steve turned too, watching as his ally willingly got up and stepped past him. They glanced at each other for a moment before Sam shuffled out, shutting the door behind him. Natasha watched him leave through the glass wall. Steve turned back around and she heard him sigh heavily.

____

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam meet up with Tony who nodded at something they said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked at their cube, curious, but didn’t head for them. She was glad he didn’t try. He'd already talked to Steve. She needed to do this part alone.

____

Steve ran a hand through his hair while the other hand squeezed the back of a chair. Natasha pushed her chair back before getting down on her knees in front of the mess he had created. She worked quietly, picking up each crisp paper between her fingers and laying them on her left forearm. She heard Steve sigh but she kept to her work.

____

He finally dropped into a crouch in front of her, grabbing the empty file. “I’m sorry about this,” he muttered, reaching down and snatching up some papers. It took Natasha a moment to realize he met the mess of papers but she smirked all the same. He was angry, annoyed and probably tired. Who wasn't? The mess could never bother her as much as his stunt in Romania or his denial of the Accords. But she was glad he was ready to clean up with her.

____

“You’re frustrated, Steve.” She picked up his profile paper and looked back at him. He looked a bit surprised that they caught eye contact again but he didn’t shy away. She listed her head. “But you’re not the only one.”

____

His face softened and he stilled his hands, keeping his full attention on her. She felt something soften in herself too; a slowing of her heartbeat, some heat coming to her face. She pulled her eyes away first, taking in a sharp breath. “I was there in Vienna. The conference had just started. King T’Chaka was making a speech.” She slowed her work for a second before just pushing her papers higher up her forearm. “He didn’t survive.” She looked back at him but he was just staring at the fallen papers. “Barnes was identified on camera just outside the block moments after.”

____

Steve nodded. He knew all of it. He had called her after the attack in Vienna. _Are you alright?_ He knew what they had over Barnes. He had gone after him, instead. _If he’s this far gone, Nat. I should be the one to bring him in._ Steve still had faith in him.

____

“I just got here hours ago,” she continued, switching her weight from leg to the other. “Tony got here this morning. You ran the streets of Romania— stole a police car— and got arrested.” She leaned over, squeezing his forearm. “We’ve all be through hell these last few hours.”

____

Steve released a small chuckle, his eyes darting out to the glass walls around them. She followed his gaze but gave up when nothing apparent caught her eye. The others were busy, ignoring them. She pulled herself closer to him, dragging his attention back to her. “Tony gave you every offer he could, Steve. You either take it or you don’t.”

____

He bit his lower lip, emotions warring on his face. Defiance. Sorrow. Anger. Worry. His gaze traveled over her own face but she moved quick, busy again with the papers. Suddenly, Steve’s hand reached through the last few papers and clutched her fingers. She didn’t look up at him but her movements stopped. She could feel the calluses on his palm, the warmth of the skin he always seemed to give off. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Do you trust me, Nat?”

____

She finally jerked her head up, staring at him. _If it was the other way around… would you trust me do it?_ She had asked him to trust her years before. He had. She had been worried that maybe he couldn’t trust her now. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe he feared she had lost her trust in him. She hesitated a moment, her breath caught in her chest when his pleading eyes stared back. She couldn’t defy the Accords. Not after she had signed them and promised to the defend them. What was he asking of her? To trust him in his fight? To trust him to make his decisions? To trust him over the Accords? She wasn’t certain what he was looking for but it didn’t matter because deep down, she did trust him over it all.

____

“Yes,” she finally admitted. He let out a breath, looking relieved before he quickly controlled his face. “I don’t trust Barnes,” she amended, ignoring the flicker of his eyes. “I don’t trust half the people in this building…” She sighed and lifted the fingers he held, her fingernails brushing the inside of his wrist. “But I do trust _you_.”

____

He sighed too before cocking his head. “Thank you,” he said, just loud enough not to have been a whisper. She smiled and tugged her hand from his. He offered a little resistance before pushing himself away and sweeping up the last of the papers. She finally pulled herself back to standing and he quickly followed, settling his stack of papers of the table.

____

A knock on the door made them both turn as a young agent stuck her head in. “Miss Romanoff…” Her eyes grazed over Steve for a second before looking back to Natasha. “They’re starting the questioning.” Natasha stiffened but gave a curt nod. The girl looked at them both a second time before stepping back out.

____

Steve turned back to her. Barnes would be questioned before they made their next move. Before Tony sent Steve and Sam back to the States, most likely stationed with Wanda until further notice. Before they sentenced Barnes for a trial. Either the States or Wakanda would have him afterwards. He had so much to answer to. Everett’s questioning was just mandatory. Natasha finally turned to Steve, her muscles tightening with preparation for her next job. “You do realize that I can’t help you anymore. Tony and I can't make every deal. We can’t make up for every mess.” She had responsibilities. She had people to answer to now. She took a step towards him. “My hands are tied, Steve.”

____

He looked down at her before looking out the walls around them. He was thinking. But it just took one stride for him to open the door and step aside for her to slip through first. That was it. He knew the risks he was taking. He wouldn’t sign it. He wouldn’t listen to her. She sighed before walking out the door, avoiding his eyes and ignoring the skip of her pulse.

____

_________________

____

____

She found Tony in a hallway, favoring his right side as he stared into a dark window. Doctors and nurses strolled up and down the hallway, dressed in blue and green suits, clipboards and medial equipment in their hands, pushing carts and pulleys that squeaked against the reflective tiled floors. Though Natasha had gone back to the Avengers Compound with most of Ross’s team, Tony hadn’t left Rhodey’s side since they rushed to the hospital.

____

He hadn’t been at the airport when the army pushed in, yelling commands and pointing guns at the last few superheroes in the place. The Spider kid was dragged across the pavement and dropped beside Wanda who seemed stuck in place, leaning back against her elbow. Scott Lang was still unconscious when they got there and was simply lugged into the back of a truck. Clint had been kicked in the pit of his knee until he fell to the ground. Natasha had dropped to her knees beside him, too tired to fight them. The only resistance came from Wanda who took ahold of one soldier with her red power. Both Natasha and Clint had convinced her to let him go. _“We already won, Wanda”_ , Clint had said. _“Let it go._ ” T’Challa had already fled the scene, still fighting to get Barnes back, along with the rest who had gone to stop Steve.

____

But even as Natasha sat on her knees, allowing one soldier to click handcuffs on her wrists, she knew they couldn’t stop him. He had taken the Quinjet, the one of many things Tony and Natasha had tried to keep him from having. It was speedy, it had cloaking mechanisms, and it was silent. They would lose him in seconds.

____

Especially since Rhodey was hit.

____

Natasha still wasn’t sure what had happened when she was dragged off the airport, but a chill had split down her spine when she had heard Tony yell his name in her earpiece. Something horrible had happened.

____

As she stepped into the hospital and found the floor her friends were on, a trickle of denial had infiltrated her head. Maybe he was fine. Maybe nothing had really happened. But the sight of Tony shriveled any false hope she had held. He looked exhausted from this viewpoint. He was weighed down heavy from the last few days. Suddenly, Tony’s eyes were on her and she stared back, her lips parting slightly, her arms limp at her side. She didn't move. She couldn’t do anything. Anything for him. Anything about the whole situation. And the guilt ate at her like a parasite.

____

He cocked his head next, prompting her to follow him as he turned away from the window. Natasha picked up her feet, glancing once through the window but only seeing Vision talking to another doctor inside. She walked beside Tony, glancing once at his left arm which was now in a cast, before keeping her eyes ahead to the hall. She didn’t know he had been hurt. “Any word about tracking the Quinjet?”

____

“Ross damns your technology,” she just muttered instead.

____

Tony chuckled, stretching out his good shoulder. “Yeah, well, he wouldn’t be the first.” Once the Quinjet was in stealth, there was no tracking it. They had learned that when Bruce Banner ran off two years before hand. They still hadn’t found him. In fact, they had all but given up on tracking Banner. Something twisted in Natasha’s gut. She had lost Bruce. She was now losing Steve. They would be invisible for as long as they wanted. And for Banner, that was forever.

____

Natasha shook the thoughts from her head, clearing her throat. “What’s happened to the others? Clint, Sam?”

____

Tony glanced at her for a second before shaking his head. “Ross took them. He’s probably containing them someplace until further notice. He hasn’t contacted me yet.” Natasha growled under her breath and Tony jerked his head to her. She didn’t trust that. She didn't trust Ross. “He will contact me, Nat.” She didn’t look at him but she didn’t argue either. Ross couldn’t hide them or hold onto them for long.

____

As they walked through the hallway, it slowly got less crowded and offered more natural light from the large windows. Tony winced beside her and she slowed her pace. He waved his good hand, dismissively. “I’m fine. Cap throws a punch.”

____

Natasha shrugged. “He always holds back in sparring. I guarantee you didn’t get the most of it.” Tony just scoffed and raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing a word. She couldn’t help doubting her words as well. Steve had been so determined.

____

They took a corner where they found a small walk leading to a glass balcony, overlooking the hospital’s back lawn. Natasha sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, as Tony dropped a hand on the glass, silently glad for the rest. The property was so green, birds sang from some treetop, a soft wind brushed past the glass. “Tell me about Rhodey.”

____

Tony was so quiet as he gave her the details. He rubbed his palm up and down the glass, working through the information he could give. Natasha could barely comprehend all he said. _Extreme laceration to the spinal cord. Some form of paralysis._ Tony barely breathed around the words. Natasha kept her eyes on the landscape ahead of her. Paralysis. A part of Rhodey’s life was just snatched from him. The best case scenario.

____

“Steve’s not gonna stop.” They both knew he wouldn’t. But Tony could stop. 

____

“You let them go, Nat.” He strained around the words, keeping his eyes on the lawn this time. Natasha looked at him, some hair falling over her left shoulder. There were a mix of feelings she heard in his voice. Aggravation. Betrayal. Confusion. She _had_ let Steve and Barnes go. She had been attacked by T’Challa the moment he was free of her Widow Bite. He had slashed her arm open, kicking her to the ground before trying his best to go after the jet. They had escaped with the help of her. She wouldn’t deny it. She couldn’t even regret it now.

____

“Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh?” She wasn’t surprised by the accusation. It was well overdo. Her signature was on those Accords same as his, she had made deals with Ross and Everett alongside him, she stood beside him in the heat of battle. And then she turned on him in the end. She supposed that was how he felt. That she had betrayed him, personally.

____

He didn’t trust her.

____

It still hurt deep down. Her eyebrow cocked as she felt the sting of his words. Anger stirred below her skin. But she wasn’t about to defend herself. It wouldn’t matter. He was still too full of himself and his cause, he wouldn’t care about her reasons. _Was he really incapable of letting go of his ego?_ He was wrong. They both had been wrong. Ross had tied their hands. James Buchanan Barnes was innocent.

____

Tony’s eyes were on her, his jaw working behind the curses she was sure he wanted to yell at her. “They’re coming,” he said instead, a slip of a threat in his voice.

____

She had run from too many people in her lifetime to feel threatened by Tony Stark or Thaddeus Ross. She didn’t even blink. “I’m not the one that needs to watch their back.” She immediately stepped back, staring at him for one more second, and turned away. Her hair bounced at her shoulders and her boots echoed on the tiled floors with each hard step she took as she left him behind.

____

____


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope it wasn't too long for another chapter! but here we are! sorry there isn't that much romanogers going on here-- plenty of mentions but no interaction! it's coming! ;)

_Wakanda_

Steve’s heart hammered against his chest. Sweat trickled down his forehead, falling into his eyes. Muscles flexed and burned. Each step reverberated up his bones. He had been at this since 4:00 am. But he kept up his pace, urged himself to go farther. Because he could. He could go so much farther and for so much longer.

Running had always kept his mind off of things. It was a way to throw off some steam and he enjoyed the satisfaction he felt after he ran miles and miles. He hadn’t been able to run much before the serum. Breathing was a luxury for him more than not and running was barely an option. Now, he relished in the pumping of blood in his veins, the sweat, and the speed his legs could take him. He used to run every morning when he lived in D.C. At first it had just been a distraction from the memories and nightmares he had after coming from the ice. It later became something he loved; when he could run around monuments and historical sights, and always watch the sun rise, catch the rays of purple, golds and blues that spread across the skies. He also met people along his runs, which was always a nice change of pace. They were almost always normal people, not government agents or superheroes. Just men and women either out for runs too, heading for work, taking their children and their school groups on trips. He had met Sam on a run, though he himself had turned out to be hardly ordinary.

Steve wondered about Sam a lot. He never heard from him or the rest of his team. He could only suppose the worst. Then again, there was no way Sam would’ve found him. There was no way he could’ve possibly contacted him.

Natasha probably could. She’d find him whether he was in the most furtive country or not.

His run slowed for a second as she shifted in his thoughts. He could still hear her voice so, so clearly. _I’m gonna regret this_. He wondered if she really regretted letting him go. God knew he owed. She would probably grumble he _owed her big time_. That was like her. He couldn’t help a smile tug at his lips but he quickly refrained, thrusting the memories deep down. He couldn’t think about her now. Not when he was miles and miles away, probably one of the most wanted fugitives of the time, and when she had just barely let him escape. He couldn’t risk the sacrifice she had made. So he stayed hidden. He wouldn’t see her for some time.

Wakanda was the most amazing place he had ever been. Not only was it completely hidden from the outside world, it was so diverse and so at peace. From the pristine glass structures of the palace with its advanced technology to the dusty towns with its street markets, and the farms with its goat herders, the country was one of a kind. And they all seemed okay with it.

He had passed through a town, slowing for a few minutes to watch kids and their farm animals, their shrieks of laugher echoing across the plains and hills. There were many market stands in the town and people yelled from each booth, offering jewelry, scarfs and different kinds of food full of exotic spices and herbs. Most of it made Steve’s stomach growl but he ignored it, knowing he had no money, and knowing he definitely couldn’t get through the language barrier.

So he headed back to the palace. Hopefully, they would have some sort of breakfast prepared and he _would_ eat anything. Growing up during the depression taught you never to be picky about food. Though, it would be nice if nothing was boiled.

The sun was already up, burning heat down on him and the concrete that appeared under his feet as he got closer to the capitol. It had to have been mid morning now and he was suddenly wondering if he should’ve told someone he had gone. He had been so desperate to leave early and get in some exercise, he didn’t think to tell anyone. And who would he tell? Bucky had been sleeping for days and he couldn’t began to think what floor, or even building, T’Challa was in. So he had snuck out.

He slowed his pace to a jog as the shade of the palace stretched over him. He was glad he had left. He felt better and getting a feel of his surrounding had set him at some ease. He had only been in Wakanda for a few days but it was beginning to feel like months. Maybe it was because he worried about his friends. Sam, Wanda, Clint, even Scott. Especially Natasha. He had finally slowed to a walk, his eyes scanning the landscape around him. His senses were on high alert constantly, his ears perked to any jet engine in the sky. His brain memorized new voices, his eyes would lock on any newsfeed playing on some flawless screen. He wasn’t alert for himself, though. He didn’t care as much if someone found him.

He had to take care of Bucky. He couldn’t lose his friend. Not again. Not after all they had gone through. Bucky seemed calmer than Steve, though, easing well in the company of Wakandans, allowing doctor after doctor to check on him. Steve would’ve been annoyed with all the needles and scans they took if he were in Bucky’s shoes but Bucky seemed used to it. He avoided all eye contact, though, and he quietly answered their questions as they scanned his brain. But he mostly rested. And rested. And rested.

It wouldn’t be long before Steve began to envy his ability to rest.

He took a turn around the building, brushing the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked up and found a Dora Milaje standing in front of him. He skipped to a stop before he toppled over her. She didn't budge.

“You snuck away, Captain Rogers,” she said through a very thick accent.

Steve couldn’t help his eyes to sweep over her. She was clad in her armor; reds, browns and gold covered her from head to toe. It clashed well with her dark flawless skin. She had strong features to her face, though Steve believed she would probably look less fierce if she had hair. And her tall sharp spear— the one they all carried— stood firm beside her, her grip on it strong as if dropping it would mean death.

Steve quickly pulled his eyes back to her and took in a breath. “Uh, yeah. I went for a run.”

“I’m afraid it may not be very wise to disappear for a few hours, Captain,” another familiar voice drifted from the left of Steve. Steve watched T’Challa come from the open building, wind ruffling at the ends of his eggplant colored coat. The guilt of running off suddenly overwhelmed Steve but he also felt a sense of gratitude. He knew they would’ve sent an army to find him if he hadn’t returned. “Though, I am glad to see you up and about again.”

Steve instinctively pressed a hand to his ribcage. He had come away from the fight in the airport mostly unscathed. But the fight with Tony in Russia had left enough bruises, cuts and aches to keep him going slow for days. He healed quickly, though, and he hadn’t broken anything. Maybe a sprained rib. Maybe a deep cut at his jaw. Two rather large bruises were still formed around his face and he had bruises along his ribs. But they were all just marks. Nothing pained him anymore.

“Come,” T’Challa said, waving his hand to the castle doors. “We have much to do to prepare your friend.”

________________

_London, England._ _One week before._

Sharon was nice.

She was really pretty.

She was a Carter.

Steve couldn’t help being somewhat attracted to her. She reminded him a lot of Peggy; the wit, the passion, even the small smirk of her lips resembled her aunt. It felt odd knowing someone so close to Peggy. Someone who would’ve been held in her arms, someone who would have stayed up late talking to her and learning from her. Someone who had lived their life with Margaret Carter.

They went out for coffee after Peggy's funeral. They had talked for about an hour, stretched the conversation from Peggy to each other. She grew up in Massachusetts. She had one brother. She was stationed in London for some time as a CIA agent. He was living in Upstate New York. He was leading the Avengers. She knew most of it. The Accords never came up in the conversation and he was thankful for it. Natasha had left for Vienna. He didn’t know about Tony or the others. Sam was with him but he had gone for some lunch. Steve had a sneaky suspicion Sam was taking a chapter out of Natasha’s book and leaving him and Sharon to their own devices. While Steve got to know a cute girl, Sam went to soak in the London culture.

Too soon, Steve was taking Sharon back to her hotel. She told him about the gun Peggy had given her for your birthday. _Very practical_ , he had said with a chuckle. _And stylish_ , Sharon quipped back. It felt good to tease with someone about Peggy.

When they got to the elevator, something felt… different. He didn’t want their time to end. He liked being with someone like her, someone so far away from his life as Captain America, someone who talked to him like was just Steve Rogers. Someone who seemed really interested in how he felt and how he thought. Warnings piled up in his mind the minute he felt all of that, though. She was a government agent, he was an Avenger. They had their own lives to lead. Besides, relationships with women never worked out for him. He hardly knew her. He knew Peggy.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. She was going to say something. He wanted to say something. _Say something, Rogers. You should say_ —

“Steve.” Steve almost jolted when he heard Sam’s voice but Sharon was already turning away. He blinked a couple times before focusing his attention to Sam. Sam seemed hesitant at first, maybe a bit embarrassed at whatever he had interrupted. It was okay. Steve wasn’t sure what he had interrupted. He glanced from Sharon back to Steve. “There’s something you gotta see.”

Steve pulled his hands out of his pockets and moved closer to Sam, taking the offered phone from his hands. The top words from the news alert made his heart pound. “ _Targeted street bombed in Vienna. Results in over fifty injured and six deaths_.”

He looked up at Sharon and though she looked ready to ask a question, she suddenly clutched her purse, bringing out her own phone. She pressed it to her ear, clearing her throat. “Yes, sir.” Her eyes locked onto Steve’s and then Sam’s before she cocked her head back to the elevator. “I’ve just now found out about it, sir.” Steve and Sam moved to the back of the elevator as she pushed her thumb into one of the floor’s numbers. She stared straight ahead at the closed doors, pressing her lips together into a thin line as she listened. “I— I’ll have that soon, sir… Yes, sir.”

She hung up and took a breath before glancing at them behind her shoulder. “The United Nations conference was in direct fire. The building was damaged. They’re still evacuating people out.”

Steve’s stomach dropped and he and Sam shared a look at the same time. “Nat was there, Steve.”

Steve immediately reached for his phone in his breast pocket. The mounting worry was suddenly tightening his chest. Natasha had offered an invitation to the conference. _There’s plenty of room on the jet_. But he had refused. He _couldn’t_ sign the Accords. Now, he was wishing he had gone. Just to keep an eye on her, just to make sure she was okay. She would hate him for thinking such chivalrous thoughts— she was a big girl, she could darn well take care of herself, she didn’t need help most of the time— but he still couldn’t help the instinct he had to protect her. If anything happened to Natasha…

Sharon’s hand was suddenly latched to his forearm, slowing his movement. He jerked his head to her but she just shook her head, sadness etched in her eyes. “She’s bound not to answer. And it may not be because the worst has happened.” _The worst_. Steve pulled away from her and she willingly dropped her arm. “She’s being evacuated, Steve. And the cell connection might be askew. Leave it for a moment.”

Blood was pounding so loud in Steve’s ears but he nodded. She was right. Of course, she was right. But it didn’t help with the panic he was feeling behind the calm and strong face he pulled on. He swallowed but slipped his phone back down. He prayed Natasha was okay.

They arrived to Sharon’s floor and she stepped out first, pulling her arms out of her small jacket. She stopped at a door, pulling a key from her purse and jiggled the lock open, switching lights on as she slipped through the doorway. Steve and Sam followed, Sam closing the door behind him. Sharon led them though the hotel room, pointing to a room on her right. “There’s a tv. Check the news?” She stepped to the left into what Steve could see was the kitchen.

Sam moved first, snatching a remote off the couch and turning the tv on. Steve moved slowly into the living room, shrugging his arms out of his suit jacket. He heard Sharon speaking on the phone again and he was tempted to listen in. Noise from the tv averted his attention away.

Footage of the explosion on the tv looked back at him, harsh and unforgiving. Fire and smoke filled the street, one building sunk in on itself. Rumbles of the ground and screams of bystanders filled his head. The street had been blown to hell. There had been a news van parked right outside the UN complex. Police had found it mere seconds before it blew. They couldn’t have done anything. The numbers already started to rise. _Seventy injured. At least twelve deaths_. The tv screen was covered with shots of the street; wounded people being rushed about, smoke billowing, and helicopters hovering overhead.

Steve folded his arms over his chest, taking in any information he could get. Heat captured him beneath the heavy vest and dress shirt. He squeezed the soft material beneath his hands when new words reached his ears. _Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier_.

And there on the screen was footage from a garage and a shadowy figure walking through, a cap over his long hair, his hands stuffed in the pockets of a bulky coat. The newsfeed zoomed in on the face. Though, blurry… it did certainly look like Bucky.

Steve knew Sam's eyes were on him, but he didn’t look away from the screen. A headache started to pound at the back of his head. They had searched and searched with only dead leads since Bucky went missing from D.C. They had always come up empty handed.

And suddenly there he was.

Sharon came to stand between Steve and Sam, sighing heavily. “I have to go to work.”

Steve finally looked away from the screen, raising an eyebrow at her. “You’re going there?”

She nodded but stared at the tv. “I’m needed there.” She took in a deep breath before looking up at him. “They’ll send a jet here. I’ll be gone in half an hour.” She rubbed her hand along the back of the couch. “You guys should go.” She walked away before they could say anything else. Steve watched her go, biting on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re not gonna go after him.” Sam’s voice seemed so loud in their stiff silence. Steve looked back at him and rested his hands on the couch, staring back at the tv. “Steve…” Sam said again, warningly.

“I can’t lose him again, Sam.”

“Steve—” Sam ripped his hands from the back of the chair that he had been leaning on. He groaned, running a hand over his head before he turned to Steve. “This is a terrorist move, man. And out in the open. He doesn’t have HYDRA hiding his dirty work anymore. Everyone will be chasing him.”

“He pulled me out of the water, Sam—” It was always Steve’s reasoning. He knew Sam and Natasha thought it was just an excuse. He didn’t care. After they had fought on the Hellicarriers in D.C., Bucky had saved him. He had pulled him up on the shore and left. The Winter Soldier wouldn’t have done that. Bucky knew him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, knowing the excuse all too well.

“Bucky’s in there, okay? Even Rumlow said Bucky remembered me.” They had chased down Brock Rumlow in Lagos days before but Rumlow’s words were so clear in his mind. _He remembered you. He got all weepy about it_. Rumlow was most likely just trying to catch Steve off guard for just enough time to detonate himself. But he had said it all the same. He would’ve been around Bucky all those years. He would’ve known. “I can get to him— I know it.”

Sam was staring back at the tv again. “How do you plan on getting there?”

Steve straightened before looking back in the kitchen. He didn’t look back as he made his way through the room, rehearsing the words he would need to say. Sharon would be leaving. She had transportation. He needed to be in Vienna. He needed to let her know he could stop this. He could get Bucky before he made anymore damage.

Sharon was pouring herself a cup of coffee, her shoulders somehow relaxed, though she chewed on her lower lip. It instantly reminded him of Peggy. She was suddenly looking up at him and he knew he had been staring. She set the coffee pot down. “James Buchanan Barnes?” He frowned but she was chuckling before he could say anything. “Bucky Barnes.” She was one step ahead of him. She knew Steve wanted in. She picked up her mug, blowing on it softly. “You know, Aunt Peggy told me a lot of stories of you when I was younger…” She looked up at him. “Not many of them were without Barnes.”

He nodded, leaning against the doorway. “We grew up together. Fought in the war together… he’s my friend.”

“Yeah, but that guy?” she asked, cocking her head to the tv. “The guy who just killed at least seventy people, who attacked a UN complex? Steve, Natasha Romanoff was in that building—” She shook her head, her eyes falling to her mug. “Surely, that’s not Bucky Barnes anymore.”

Biting down the worry about Natasha, Steve stepped further in the kitchen, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. That’s not him. Buck and his whole regiment was captured by HYDRA in 1943. Arnim Zola did this. He was—”

“I know. Operation Paperclip…” S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken in German scientists after the war. Their brains were worth preserving and Zola was no exception. “Most ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have read at least a quarter of the S.H.I.E.L.D. files Black Widow dumped on the web.” She raised her eyebrows. “Lucky me.”

“HYDRA may have saved Bucky. But they turned him into the Winter Soldier. They wiped his mind and forced him to do their dirty work.” Steve now stood behind the counter separating them, gazing over the long smooth edges of its surface. “He disappeared after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Sam and I have tried to track him down ever since. But we never found him.”

“Now he’s back,” Sharon said, thoughtfully.

“It may seem like he’s just the Winter Soldier again. He still might not remember anything.” He spread his hands on the counter, leaning in. “But, Sharon, I _know_ he’s in there. He’s shown it time and time again. I know I can get to Bucky and help him.”

She sipped from her coffee before she stepped away, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you asking of me?”

“I need to be there, Sharon. We’ve both seen what he’s capable of. If the police are on his tail and actually find him? He’s bound to do something worse.” Sharon stared over his shoulder, probably hearing something new from the tv. “I know I can get to him if I have the chance. I’ve been so close and I’m not gonna give up. Sharon—” He leaned over to her but she grimaced, looking away. “Let me come with you to Vienna. Just drop me and Sam off. You won’t do anything more.”

She shook her head. “That’s risky.”

“I know.” Steve heard Sam step in the kitchen and he stole a glance at him. When he looked back, Sharon was gripping her biceps, her knuckles turning white. She was considering her options. She was thinking very hard. “I know I’m asking a lot.” Sharon looked back at him, so hesitant, so worried. “But I’m asking you to trust me.”

She stared at him for a long time.

Steve waited.

Sam was silent.

She finally closed her eyes, releasing a held breath. “Fine. I can get you to Vienna. I might even be able to get some leads for you… if the police have any yet.” She grabbed her mug and went to pour the coffee in the sink. “You guys might wanna change, though.”

Relief washed over Steve and anxiety loosened from his chest. “Thank you.” He tried to put every bit of gratitude he had in those words. He was beyond grateful. She smiled back before turning to the sink again. Steve turned back to Sam but his friend wore a solemn look on his face. “Will you come with me?” When Sam didn’t say anything, Steve shook his head, putting his hands back in his pockets. “No. You’ve done so much, already.” Between chasing down Bucky with him and then standing with him for Peggy’s funeral, he had already helped Steve so much. “You should go home.”

Sam stared at him for a minute before he clicked his tongue. “As long as Sharon is trusting you and risking everything… I’d be a dummy not to do the same. Besides, you wouldn’t last long without me. I’m going.”

___________________

Bucky sat on an exam table, his one hand flexing in and out with nervous energy. A nurse stood beside him, calmly and silently raising a long tech piece up and down the top half of his body. Warm light spilled on Bucky’s white muscle shirt, diagnose numbers spilling over the top of whatever machine she was using. Steve stood useless beside them, his arms folded over his chest. The nurse took the tech away before smiling down at Bucky. “Everything is stable. You can leave the wing if you like.”

Bucky nodded at her and she looked back at Steve for a moment before stepping out of the room. They weren’t alone, though. A glass wall was behind them, overlooking the nurses and doctors on the other side, working busily. Bucky had been there ever since they arrived to Wakanda. He had more wounds than Steve from the fight with Tony and he clearly didn’t heal as quickly.

Steve overlooked Bucky, relieved once again that he was okay. From being framed for the murders of dozens, being chased in Romania, fighting Avengers in Germany, and then being beaten to death by Iron Man, Bucky had been through the wringer in just a few days. Steve would more than understand if he didn’t feel too sure of himself to leave the med-wing, just yet.

“They don’t give you lollipops like they did when were kids,” Bucky chuckled, looking up at Steve. Steve laughed before letting his hands down and coming around to sit beside him. He thought better of it, though, considering both their weight on the small table. He instead just leaned against it, shoving his hands in his pockets. Bucky was staring ahead, his eyes still. “Do you think they still believe I blew up that street?”

Steve looked to his right at the Wakandans on the other side. No one paid them attention. Vienna—where their own king was killed— still had to have been recovering from the bombing. He wondered if some of Sharon’s team were still there. He had only been there for half an hour before Sharon smuggled them some intel and they left to find Bucky in Romania.

He'd only had time to call Natasha. She’d been fine, of course. She had tried to tell him to stay home. But he was already decided. He was still decided.

“I know you didn’t do it. T’Challa knows you didn’t do it. And whoever now has Zemo, knows you didn’t do it.” Steve suspected Everett had him. T’Challa had just taken him in custody when Steve and Bucky emerged from the deep HYDRA base. Both of them bleeding and limping on each other from their fight with Iron Man. T’Challa hadn't even thought of waiting for Tony. Zemo had to be taken care of first.

“Still,” Bucky said, shrugging his good shoulder, “I was the perfect candidate to frame, right? It could happen again. Or… I could be taken advantage of again like in Germany? Then I would do something even worse.”

Steve gripped his friend’s shoulder, shaking his head. “Hey. Don’t think like that. Nothing’s gonna happen like that again if I’m around.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not always gonna be around, right?” He was chuckling as he said it, but Steve saw turmoil written on his face. His words stung even to Steve. He dropped his hand and sighed, tiredly. Bucky was right. He was always going to be a liability after all the mess HYDRA had done to him. It suddenly dawned on Steve that his friend would never been the same go-getting, lighthearted kid he had grown up with in Brooklyn.

He wasn’t the same kid he had been either. They had gone through so much. And somehow, he sensed they would go through much more for years to come.

Bucky sighed too, scratching at the back of his neck. “So, uh, I’ve been talking to some of the doctors here, or scientists— or whatever they are. Anyway, they said they could do it. Actually, they kinda looked relieved that I was even considering it. I guess it’d be easier to work on me—”

“Buck.” Steve was frowning now, so confused but also horrified at the words Bucky was going to say. _They could do it. It would be easier to work on me_. Bucky looked sheepishly up at Steve but Steve could see something else in his eyes: resolve. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment before he smirked, easing the tension some. “I wanna be put back on the ice. I’m dangerous, man. They can… they can work on me, try to fix me, if I’m on the ice. It’s for the best.” Though Steve’s first instinct was to fight this decision, he slowly understood it. It was necessary. And Bucky had chosen it, willingly.

Steve looked away, breathing deeply through his nose. It was still hard to accept. He had just found Bucky— the real Bucky— and now he was going to lose him to sleep and ice. It was all too similar to his own preservation. Bucky was quiet as Steve processed. He probably recognized the features of when Steve was thinking; his frown, the chewing on the inside of his lower lip, the distant eyes. But what did Steve have to think about? It was Bucky’s decision. He could only support him.

Finally, Steve lifted his head and nodded. “Yeah. You should do what you think is best.” Bucky nodded, thankful. He rubbed the stub of metal on his left shoulder. Tony had blown his arm off in their fight. Steve wondered if he felt incredibly vulnerable without it.

“What will you do when I’m away?” he asked, quietly, watching Steve.

Steve now had so many things to think about. He had still been so focused on getting Bucky back on his feet. And now that Bucky was going to stay in Wakanda, he had to make plans for himself. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I haven’t even thought about it.”

“You should go find Sharon,” Bucky teased, a grin already spreading on his face. Steve felt heat come to his cheeks and Bucky laughed. “You shouldn’t forget about her.”

“Shut up,” Steve said, shoving him in the shoulder right where skin met metal. He still wondered if kissing Sharon wasn’t the dumbest thing he had ever done. He hadn’t known what else to do. She had brought him to Vienna. She had told him where to find Bucky in Everett’s base in Germany. She had brought their suits to them. She helped him so much, she trusted him wholeheartedly… he knew he had to thank her somehow. So he had kissed her. He even admitted he had wanted to do it for awhile.

But it hadn’t felt right. It still didn’t feel _right_.

No, kissing Sharon was the worst thing he could’ve ever done. He didn’t feel about her in that way. Even if she was the niece of Peggy Carter, even though their fates may have been tied to each other, he hardly knew Sharon. She was kind and spunky, fearless and resilient. It was attractive, he had to admit. But he still didn’t feel anything more than admiration for her. And now, all he ever felt about her was guilt.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice it so Steve smothered the feelings and forced a smile. But when he looked back at Bucky, the man looked worried, maybe guilty himself. “What about Stark?”

A different guilt— an even stronger guilt— rose through his chest. The last time he had seen Tony… well, they had fought. They had fought like enemies, beating their vulnerable spots, leaving bruises and scars on more than their bodies. They had both been covered in blood but more. Steve could still see the fear cascaded over Tony’s face when he had lifted his shield. He seemed sure Steve would’ve killed him. That pained Steve the most.

Steve took in a deep breath and squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ll handle it.” Bucky didn’t look very convinced and Steve didn’t feel very convinced. Steve wasn’t sure he could ever fix what happened between him and Tony. Somehow he found some bit of confidence and he nodded, repeating his words. “I’ll handle it.”

Bucky was very silent for a long moment. Steve supposed they were both still working through what had happened. Bucky had to live with the fact that he had killed Tony’s parents. Steve had to live with the fact that he had kept it a secret from Tony. And they had to live with the fact that they had all fought each other. Steve could still taste the blood that had coated his tongue and still smell the iron in his bloody nose from the fight.

Suddenly, Bucky was nodding again. “You should find your friends. They risked everything for us. Even the pretty red head.” Steve stiffened at the mention of Natasha. Bucky had already asked about her, even before they fought in the airport. _Who’s the pretty red head? She’s Russian, isn’t she?_ He wondered if Bucky remembered her from their last encounters. Natasha certainly remembered, what with a wound over her left hip from the Winter Soldier. Still, Bucky just seemed interested in what Natasha was to Steve. Steve had gone with the safest explanation. She was a friend. His work partner.

He had never stopped thinking about her. He wondered where she was. If she was okay. She was likely on the run since helping him and Bucky get away. She had trusted him to the very end. She had given Bucky the benefit of the doubt. And his team? They had risked everything. There was little chance they had escaped from the airport. Clint had said it himself: _If we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it._ Steve couldn’t let them down. He would find them all.

_________________

_Germany._ _Days before_

“Natasha will be there,” Clint said, tugging on some forearm protection, as Steve came to stand beside him. It felt good to have more allies. Clint, Wanda, even Scott. They had all come to Germany to help him. But also to take their own stand. He felt bad for calling in Clint who was a family man and a retired Avenger. But Clint seemed ready to fight and Steve needed the backup. There was a new threat.

Steve hadn’t cared much about the psychiatrist Everett had hired to evaluate Bucky just hours before. He hadn’t felt threatened either, though the man talked big. He said he wanted to see an empire fall. Steve hadn’t known what he meant until Bucky told him about the soldiers left in Russia. Soldiers like himself; trained and manipulated by HYDRA. The doctor knew about them and Bucky was convinced he’d be heading for Russia. Once the soldiers were awoken from their cryosleep, they would be dangerous and unstoppable. _They could take down a whole country in one night, you’d never see them coming._

This wasn’t about the Accords anymore. It wasn’t even about saving Bucky from Wakanda or whoever wanted him behind bars. It wasn’t about Tony or Natasha. Though Steve wanted desperately to tell them about their new threat, Sam was right. They wouldn’t believe him and besides, who knew if the Accords would let them help. Steve and his makeshift team were on their own and they had to do something.

Steve stared out at the empty airport, so bright underneath the afternoon sun. It was odd for it to be so quiet and still. But it had been evacuated some time ago. They all knew Tony had done it. Steve could sense Tony was waiting for him to come out.

Natasha was waiting, too.

“I know,” Steve said, a frown setting on his forehead. She could’ve been coming for Bucky. They had fought, hadn’t they? When Bucky hadn’t been in his right mind, he had almost killed both Natasha and Tony in Everett’s base. But they were coming for Steve as well. They had to get to him before Ross did.

Sharon had brought their suits. Her last chance to help them before she would be on the run herself. She had risked her job, her very life for him. He still wasn’t sure he had thanked her well enough. The kiss felt like the only appropriate way to thank her. She seemed to like it. But then, she seemed so okay with risking everything for him. She shouldn’t have felt that way. He shook the thoughts away. He had to focus. Sharon made her decisions and she also knew how to take care of herself. He had to trust she would be fine.

But Natasha? He didn’t know what to think of Natasha Romanoff.

“Sam said she helped get your suits to you,” Clint muttered, pulling on some more pieces of his suit. Steve looked at him, setting his hands on the belt of his suit. He was glad to be back in his armor. His shield was strapped to his back and his helmet was settled on the top of his Beetle. His Beetle. Small and dumpy, with rusted wheels and a very odd sounding engine, his old VW Beetle was barely sufficient. It was low profile, though, and it had been the easiest thing to obtain. It was a pretty blue, which Bucky had pointed out when Sam whined about it, so Steve supposed that was something. Even Clint had joked about it when he first laid eyes on it. Still, it had served its most needed purpose; it had driven three rather large men and all of their suits safely to the Lepzig airport.

The suit seemed to close in on his skin as he thought about it. “Sharon wasn’t sure she would’ve snuck them out without Nat’s help. I can only guess why she would do it.” He looked away. “She’s desperate.”

“With only thirty-six hours to find you before this Ross takes over…” Clint hooked his quiver onto his back, his movements swift and sure. “She knew you weren’t gonna come in without a fight. She knew this fight was gonna happen. She’s given you a chance with the suits.”

Steve nodded. It was true. She didn’t have to do it. Just like Sharon didn’t have to help him. At least it wasn’t completely an act of grace— Natasha had still bargained the suits for Steve’s location. He didn’t blame Sharon for giving her the information. Natasha was bound to find them one way or another. But he did wonder how Natasha had really convinced Sharon to comply. It couldn’t just have been the exchange of the suits. And Sharon wasn’t the kind of person to be bullied into anything.

Still, they had the suits now. In some ways, it felt good to know Natasha still had his back. Even when, just hours before, she had told him she couldn’t help anymore. Even when she was still defending the Accords and she would still come for him… she was still giving him chances. On the other hand, he was somewhat nervous. Helping him was just another sign that she didn’t pick sides— not really. She did what she wanted… or what benefited her. He couldn’t be sure Natasha would help him again.

“When it comes down to it, Steve,” Clint said, pulling his bow out and swinging it back until it turned into a thick baton, “Natasha’s gonna do what she can for her family. I know her, man.” Clint turned his whole body to Steve, a look of sheer determination on his face. “She brought you the suits. But she’s still gonna fight you out there. She’s gonna do whatever she needs to to keep the Avengers together.”

Steve dropped his head for a moment, staring into his fingerless gloves. The leather rubbed into his skin, the tightness of it somehow comforting him. He wished he was ready for a fight. _But not with her_. “Are you ready to face her?”

“I’m not scared of Natasha. But I’m ready to fight her if it comes to it.” Steve nodded, his eyes drifting to the concrete floor below them. Clint suddenly sighed and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Cap. I know this is all about getting out of the country and stopping some crazed Russian soldiers now… but I know what’s going through your head.” Steve frowned at him as if confused but Clint wasn’t looking convinced of anything. “Natasha was in Barnes’s shoes ten years ago. I gave her a chance just like you’re giving Barnes one.”

The similarities had definitely occurred to Steve. Both Natasha and Bucky had been trained assassins, secret agents with specific skill sets, ghosts hunted down by so many countries. Both Steve and Clint had given them chances. And Steve had wondered more than once, why didn’t she want to give Bucky the very chance that was given her?

“You can’t ask that of her,” Clint said as if reading Steve’s very thoughts. “She’s never thought she was worth that. Yeah, she’s worked her butt off to prove I hadn’t made a mistake. Though I never need convincing— I’ve always known she’s more than what those Red Room bastards created out of her. But she sometimes still sees herself as that killer. She still has to make up for the hell she created. Now, she’s signed the Accords. It’s something that will wipe the red out of her ledger. She’s gotta stand true to it now.” Clint looked past Steve’s shoulder as the others suited up. “Barnes doesn’t fit in the equation anymore.”

Steve stared at him for a long moment, all of his words sinking in deep. It hurt. It hurt like hell to wonder what all Natasha was thinking and feeling. He wished he could talk to her. Talk like they used to. Up in her room. Out in the Quinjet while on mission. Over some coffee in the kitchen of the Avengers compound. Before any of this had happened. He lifted his head and stared back out to the airport. He couldn’t talk to her now. She _wouldn’t_ talk to him. They were on opposite sides now. Fighting for different causes. He wasn’t going to be dragged back to the States like a criminal. And she wasn’t going to let Bucky go.

“Then I’ll have to fight her,” he breathed more to himself than anyone else. Clint shifted beside him but Steve was already turning away, slipping by the Beetle and pulling his helmet off. He and Bucky shared a glance before he pulled his helmet on, the sudden weight of Captain America tugging on his shoulders. He stood in the middle of their small group, taking in a deep breath. The others turned to him, all dressed in their suits, their bodies tense for a fight. Dread built itself in Steve’s stomach but he nodded to them all the same. “Here’s the plan...”

___________________

_Wakanda_

“Barnes will be with the best of care,” T’Challa said, slipping in step beside Steve. They had decided Bucky would be put on the ice in two days time. Steve was still uneasy about the plan, he had to admit it. But Bucky was decided. And the doctors and scientists of the palace seemed to think it was the best thing to do.

Steve sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “How long do you suppose he’ll be in the ice?”

“For however long it takes them, I’m afraid,” T’Challa replied, clamping his hands behind his back. Steve was still surprised how much T’Challa wanted to help Bucky. Just days before he was breaking hell lose to kill Bucky. Now, he had his best people working on healing Bucky, including his own sister. And Steve knew deep down there was no safer place for Bucky than within the Wakandan walls. Steve found himself looking out the ceiling to floor windows all around him, finding the walls outside. Walls of greenery, grey clouds, the dome over their heads. Bucky would be safe. “But they will find a cure, Captain,” T’Challa was talking again, unfazed if he noticed Steve looking out the windows. “But _you_ should be focusing on another matter.”

Steve swiveled his head back to the king. “What do you mean?”

But T’Challa was already walking ahead of him, one hand in the air as if directing Steve to follow him. Steve looked over his shoulder once more, catching a glance at one of the doctors talking quietly to Bucky. On first instinct, Steve thought about going to listen in, be there for Bucky if needed, learn all he could. But something stopped him. Bucky didn’t need him right now. He was being taken care of. He seemed so at ease. He had decided to go back into cryosleep. Something told Steve he needed to let Bucky have his space.

It was going to be hard to leave Bucky, all the same.

Steve looked back in the direction T’Challa had gone… and followed.

T’Challa led Steve through a large room, plush with cushioned couches and chairs. A long table stood in the middle of the room and all the walls were windows with a view of a very green jungle. A waterfall was to the side, the loud rush of water could even be heard through the glass. Two people were by the table, one sitting, his head craned over a computer screen. The other, a Dora Milaje, stood still, her eyes on Steve’s every move.

“Captain, you remember General Okoye,” T’Challa said, splaying one hand toward the woman. Steve nodded in her direction, though he wasn’t sure he remembered when they had met. She gave a small tilt to her head. “And this is Jabari— one of our best surveillance operatives.”

Steve caught eyes with the young man for a split second before Jabari was turning away and typing something across his screen. Steve frowned and looked back at T’Challa. “Operative?”

He smirked. “He is our best hacker, in other words.”

Things clicked for Steve and he nodded, making his way to the table, pulling out one of the chairs to sit in. “What do we have?” T’Challa followed suit as Steve and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. He motioned for Okoye to do the same but she ignored him, her eyes steeled to the wall ahead of them.

T’Challa didn’t fight her and simply turned back to Steve. “We know where your friends are.”

Relief and guilt engulfed him all at once. They’d found his team. Which only meant his team had been taken. Captured… like criminals. He mostly hadn’t expected anything less. At least they were alive. He glanced at Jabari, suddenly feeling like propelling himself across the table to snatch the screen away from him. Maybe Okoye sensed his desperation because she was suddenly glaring at him. Steve looked back at T’Challa. “How—?” The question was stupid. The hacker was right in front of him and with all the tech surrounding him, Steve knew it hadn’t taken much time or sweat to find Clint or Sam. He shook his head, backtracking the question. “Where?”

“Ross had them taken to an ultra-maximum security prison. It’s a place called the RAFT.”

 _Prison_. T’Challa had used the word. Anger boiled in Steve’s blood.

“Where is it?” Steve muttered, flexing his fingers in and out.

“The Pacific Ocean,” Okoye answered this time, sounding almost as if anyone should’ve known. T’Challa glanced at her before relaxing back in his chair. Steve eyed her for a moment before looking back at T’Challa. What the hell did that mean?

T’Challa leaned over the table, resting his elbows on it. “It’s submersible.” Steve took in a deep breath, his gaze falling to the wood table. “It’s designed especially to hold enhanced and superhuman detainees.”

 _Submersible. Designed especially to hold the enhanced and superhuman_. Ross had done all this. He had to have set up this RAFT before the Accords were even passed. If Avengers hadn’t signed it… would they have found their place in the prison before long? Steve ran his hands down his face, through his hair, squeezing his neck. How—? His friends, his family, were in that prison, deep within the water, treated like villains or worse. _Animals_.

“We have to get them out,” he finally breathed, his chest working to rise and fall. He wanted to throw a hand through a wall, yell orders of any kind, punch himself. He didn’t care what it was— he needed to do his damnedest to get them out. He needed to do it now.

T’Challa watched him for a moment before shaking his head. Steve straightened in his chair and shifted his weight around so he faced T’Challa completely. He acted as if he didn’t notice Okoye tightening her grip on her spear. T’Challa didn’t seemed worried, he didn’t even move a muscle. “I have the coordinates for you, Captain. I will even give you the blueprint of the building. But I could not infiltrate it. Wakanda and the United States have an understanding. I cannot risk that. And…” He stopped for a moment, his eyes moving to the screen in front of Jabari. “And I have to protect my home. For generations, we have been disguising ourself as a poor nation. It is to protect our people and the supplies of Vibranium. No one outside of the dome know of this Wakanda. If the world knew about us… well, I cannot risk that as well.”

Steve’s jaw had gone slack. He wanted to fight him. How could he stand by and watch? But Steve quickly berated himself. T’Challa had already done so much. He wasn’t just standing back and watching. He was saving Bucky. He had even found Steve’s team. He would give Steve everything he needed to get to the RAFT. But he couldn’t go himself. Steve understood that.

Steve glanced at Jabari who now stared back. The song of the waterfall behind the glass seemed to fill in the silence. It began to ring in Steve’s ears. He glanced at Okoye who now seemed to look at him with pity. T’Challa was watching him as well, but there was a kind patience on his face.

Steve finally shook his head. “I can’t do it alone…” he whispered.

Then, T’Challa stood. “No, you cannot. You will need assistance. Fortunately, I have suggestions for the best candidates.” He turned away and Steve scrambled after him, frowning at Okoye but she simple followed, her booted steps echoing off the floor below them. “Though, I am sure they are no longer in New York. You may have to do a little digging yourself.”

“Wait—” Steve let out a hand though T’Challa never looked back at him. “Who are we talking about here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for keeping up with the story! comments are sooo appreciated! sending hugs! --carolyn


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 is up!!!! this was a tricky chapter for me so sorry if it's not the best ever! hey, you can always come chat with me on instagram @ladynatrogrs

_Germany. Days Before_.

“I said I’d help you find him, not catch him.” Natasha said, turning to King T’Challa. “There’s a difference.” She saw the release of panther like nails from his gloves. Natasha just smirked. Her own Widow Bite cuffs felt warm around her wrists, the hum of electricity pulsating along up her left arm. He did a good job hiding the pain from her Widow Bite but she could tell he was hurt— even behind the Black Panther suit.

She couldn’t hear the roaring engine of the Quinjet anymore. If Rogers was smart, he would fly away and never look back. He would take his chance and hide. Hide away as far and as long as necessary. Chance, chances. She had given him so many. He and Barnes had taken the Quinjet and would leave God knew where. All she truly knew was that he had needed her. He had trusted her. And she had let him go.

She had fought like hell in the Lepzig airport. She was tired and angry. It all felt so wrong to throw punches at Clint or even the shrinking guy who she didn’t know. She only wanted to keep the Avengers together. She hadn’t cared how she did it— until she was suddenly fighting them all. Until they all faced each other like enemies. Six people on one team. Six people on the other team. She hadn’t seen any blood in the fight. But there would still be wounds. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Relationships were shattered. The Avengers were broken. The Accords wouldn’t fix it. Neither Steve or Tony could fix it.

She had given it up the minute she fought Clint. He had joked with her even as he threw her to the ground. She couldn’t fight him. She had pulled her punches— he had done the same. The Accords, Ross, even Tony, couldn’t make her fight her family. She wouldn’t bring Steve in. She wouldn’t give Barnes to Wakanda.

So, she had stopped. She ignored Tony’s orders to protect the Quinjet. Walked up to Steve, hardly taking notice of Barnes. _You’re not gonna stop_. Steve looked tired, himself. But oh, so resolved. Undaunted and strong. Skies, it was handsome.

Suddenly, T’Challa was behind them and she had shot him with the Widow Bite, instead. She didn’t glance at either Steve or Bucky as they ran past but the rush of wind and the pounding of Steve’s boots beside her made her a little more determined. She was going to regret letting them go, eventually. But in the moment, with the blood simmering in her, and another shot of electricity bolting from her wrist, she knew it was the best decision she had made in over twenty-four hours.

“Someone told you Barnes’ location…” T’Challa growled. He had given up his ‘resources’ to follow her lead. The one lead she had had. _You know where they are_ , he had said. She had smirked. _I know someone who does_. Sharon Carter. She had given up Steve’s location for Natasha’s help. The only thing they had in common was Steve. And they had both wanted him safe, it seemed. Natasha wouldn’t let Ross get him. Sharon trusted Natasha could help him. And so she had. Now she just had to deal with the consequences. “You recruited me to fight here! You said you would fight them!”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. She pulled her batons out from behind her back. She braced, leaning forward into a fighting stance. “But I don't make promises. And I don’t take sides.”

He yelled as he ran for her, his claws slicing through the air as she dodge him, swinging her baton into the pit of his knee. He summersaulted before squatting back and swinging a leg to trip up her feet. She saw it coming and flipped over, landing in her own crouch. “Relax, Your Highness,” she breathed, swinging one baton back and forth.

But he was already running for her again, this time his claws reaching for her face. She pulled her head farther away before swinging her batons for him. Boy, he was fast and each throw she sent him just met the dusty air around them. Lucky for Natasha, she was fast as well and simply batted away his shots, jumping and swinging away, her hair catching on the sweat on her neck as she moved back and forth.

“ _They’re getting away, Nat!_ ” Tony’s voice suddenly yelled in Natasha’s comm and she winced. _Yeah, about that_. She ignored him and threw her foot into T’Challa’s chest. He caught her boot, squeezing his nails into the material. She pulled the gun from her thigh holster, aiming for his chest, before pulling the trigger twice. The impact of the bullets pushed him away and Natasha fell back on her right hip. The concrete was cold beneath her, a comfort from the heat of the day and the adrenaline in her veins. She jumped up quick, knowing T’Challa wouldn’t give up easily. He was already running for her when she got to her knees but Tony’s second yell for help stopped them both. “ _RHODES!_ ”

Dread washed over Natasha and she took in a sharp breath. Tony’s cry was one of desperation—horror. _What happened?_ T’Challa lifted his head, gazed out in the wreckage Steve had left behind. He dragged his panther face back to her. “What have you done?” She didn’t have time to answer before he gripped her shoulder with a vice, slicing his claws into her arm, and chucking her to the ground like a rag doll. She yelled out but the minute she hit the ground she turned, her gun trained on him.

But he was already fleeing. The evening sun broke through the garage, glistening on the slick black panther suit as he jumped over the wreckage. She groaned, keeping her gun up, before wincing. She sat up on her behind and looked down at her shoulder. Blood was already seeping though the black material of her suit. That would hurt for awhile.

She lifted her head when she heard Clint’s voice. He was calling someone. She managed the last of her strength and pulled herself back to standing. She found her batons she’d abandoned for the gun. Sticking them back to her suit, she climbed her way over the wreckage, bits and pieces of the airport Vision had laid out in Steve’s way. The sun hid behind grey clouds, bringing a coolness to the grey concrete surrounding her. She couldn’t see the Quinjet or even Iron Man anywhere.

“Natasha! You okay?” Natasha turned her head to see Clint making his way towards her, throwing his bow behind his back. Natasha picked her way through the wreckage, keeping away from jagged rock and bent metal. Clint got to her first, giving her a hand. She hesitated. They caught eyes and a smile met the corner of his lips. “Cap got away.” She looked away, searching out any more Avengers in the airport. Wanda laid out not far from them. The Spider kid was making his way through the destruction they had caused in so little time. T’Challa was no where to be seen. “Nat?”

She looked back at Clint and finally took his hand. “He took the Quinjet. He’ll be invisible— if he’s smart and turns on the cloaking. Wherever he’s going… he’ll be safe.” Clint led her down the hill of concrete, metal and paneling.

“You let him go,” Clint muttered, stepping back to the ground. He turned to her, releasing her hand. It sounded as if he always knew she’d do it.

She glowered and shrugged her good shoulder. “He’d do the same for me.”

When she dared look back at him, he was smiling. “Yeah.” He quickly turned around, his head cocking to the left. “Someone’s coming.” She heard the car engines too. Natasha looked over her shoulder to see the rest of their teams but there seemed to be only the four of them there. Oh, five. The Ant guy was unconscious a few yards away from her.

Before she could make another move, three large grey Jeeps drove into the airport. Clint immediately tensed, putting his hand out to Natasha. Wanda rolled back to her knees and the Spider kid slowed his tracks. Soldiers piled out of the cars, clad in green uniforms, guns in their hands. “Hands off the weapons! Get on the ground!” Natasha lifted her head to see a helicopter roar over their heads. Tony must have called them. Or Ross had tracked them.

Two soldiers ran for Natasha and Clint, his gun pointed to them as he gave them orders to surrender. Natasha and Clint both shared a look before she threw her batons to the ground. Clint pulled his bow over his head. “Here we go.”

__________________

 _Clint Barton’s Farm_.

Natasha jolted out of sleep, pushing another heavy weight forward with her. Sweat was damp against her back. She groaned, pressing the heel of her hand into her eyes. The memories were already turning into dreams. She could still hear Clint’s voice so clearly. Still feel the skin of his hand as he had squeezed hers.

She looked down at the heavy weight on her chest and a chuckle escaped her. Nathaniel Barton slept soundly against her, his chubby cheeks a deep pink from the heat they had collected together sleeping on the couch. He hadn’t seemed to notice her jump and she was thankful her dreams hadn’t seeped into his peaceful sleep.

“You okay, Nat?” Natasha looked to her left where Laura Barton sat in the chair beside them, a pair of knitting needles in her hands, working quietly with a yarn of wool. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she was dressed in some light blue pajamas with a long sweater wrapped around her.

Natasha nodded and lifted herself back into a sitting position. “Yeah… it was just a dream. I’m okay.” She pushed herself against the arm of the couch and collected the details of their surrounding. They sat in the small living room of the Barton farmhouse. It was late night, almost midnight to Natasha’s speculation. She and Laura had settled in front of the tv, Laura collecting her knitting while Natasha lulled Nathaniel to sleep. She hadn’t expected to lull herself to the land of nod. Laura must have watched at least three episodes of their show but she currently was just letting the credits roll. Natasha couldn’t even remember what they had been watching.

“He’s finally out,” Laura said, nodding towards Nathaniel. She pushed her knitting aside and stood, shaking her legs out from some cramp she had likely gotten from the way she had curled into her seat. “I’ll take him to bed. You wanna go on up?”

Natasha stared at Nathaniel for a moment, shaking her head. Though she had obviously gotten some nods in, she didn’t feel like getting in bed just yet. She didn’t need the memories and dreams taunting her in the dark of her guest room. Not yet. “No, I’m good. Wanna start a movie this time?”

Laura plucked Nathaniel from Natasha’s arms. She didn’t even look tired as she pressed Nathaniel’s head against her shoulder. They had had a peaceful day of cooking and lounging. Natasha had been at the farm for two days and most of her time there included walking to the creek with Lila and Cooper, cutting up vegetables with Laura and catching up on kids shows and movies at night with Laura. Laura moved around the couch, dodging baby dolls and Lego sets. “Sure. Let me put this monster to bed. I’ll be right back.”

Natasha leaned over, grabbing the mug of peppermint tea Laura had made for them both before hand. It was still warm and flavorful. She glanced around the house, relishing the peace and contentment of the walls, the warm lighting, the scents. The farmhouse was really her home. Clint and Laura welcomed her anytime, rain or shine. And now that Clint wasn’t there to protect it… Natasha was going to defend it to the death if need be.

It had been four days since she had left Tony at the hospital. She had packed only what she needed from the Avengers Compound before driving to a safe house she had in D.C. Safe house wasn’t really the word— it was a small, ugly and cold apartment located in a dark and suspicious neighborhood. She had collected some money and the one burner phone before abandoning that place and heading for the farm. She hid her tracks, fell under the radar. She became a ghost. She prayed to God Tony wouldn’t be an idiot and think to chase her. Think to look for Clint’s farm. Think to threaten Laura. But he hadn’t lifted a finger.

She had almost hated herself for thinking he would. He was still their friend. She knew he loved them like family. He would never hurt Laura or the kids. But she also couldn’t afford to risk anything just on their friendship. The last time she had seen Tony he was knee deep in guilt and pain. He had tried to keep the Avengers together. He hadn’t been successful and Natasha was sure he would do _anything_ — good or bad— to try to fix things. She couldn’t risk Clint’s family.

Natasha took in a deep breath, straightening her back. Her skin pulled at the gash in her arm and she lifted her pajama top to inspect the wound behind the gauze. It was healing but so slowly. She avoided it being pressed on or stretched as much as she could. But more often than not, she ignored the pain and continued on. She’d had worse wounds. She’d be okay.

Natasha groaned and laid back into the couch’s back. Oh, how she wished she’d never signed those Accords. How she wished the Avengers had taken better care. How she wished the Avengers had taken a moment to breath and come up with a solution themselves. Rather than being pushed around by Ross or Everett or whoever else. But all her wishes didn’t matter. Life had happened. She had to live with it. And living with it meant telling Laura about the Accords, telling her Clint was missing, telling her she’d stay at the farm because this was her fault, and that she would try to find him. It was a big promise. But one she couldn’t help but make. She’d bet everything that Ross had them. Tony likely knew where they were by now. Surely he wouldn’t allow Ross to hide them forever—

A sound from outside the house made Natasha tense. She straightened up again, tuning out all the other sounds from the house— the washing machine in the back of the house, the hum of the tv, Laura’s feet padding around upstairs— to hear the one sound that was out of place.

An engine. Rumbling smoothly. Getting closer.

Natasha jumped from the couch, her senses on fire, her brain working fast for a plan. Laura and the kids were upstairs. Clint had a shotgun in the closest near the front door. It was hardly a plan but the only one she had. Her means were low. She was alone. She had no backup. It wouldn’t be the first time. But it would be the first time to protect a helpless family. _Three kids_.

Natasha moved quickly to the closet, searching out the gun and the bullets on the top shelf. Her suit, guns and batons, was upstairs. She wouldn’t have time to get it— and the engine was closer now. It was a smaller engine than a car. It moved much slower than a jet. A bike. Natasha pushed the large bullets into the magazine, locking it back into place. Her movements were sure but not graceful enough. She was angry and her mind was moving a mile a minute. If Tony even thought—

The engine stopped. Maybe a few yards from the house. It was suddenly so quiet.

She looked back over her shoulder, thankful Laura hadn’t come down just yet. She took in a deep breath before pulling the door open and shoving the screen door open with her foot. Light from the house spilled out on the wood porch and the _groan_ of the screen door announced her arrival. She walked out into the porch, meeting the summer heat with a cold glare and tense muscles. She knew she probably looked ridiculous— dressed in some lightweight cotton pajamas, untamed curls framing her face (one curl falling over her forehead) and barefoot, with a large gun trained in the darkness. Her Red Room trainers would be ashamed of the sight.

“SHOW YOURSELF!” she yelled into the darkness, cocking back the safety of the gun. “This property has a triple security system— how the hell did you get through?” She ran through the list of safeguards Clint had on the large farm. There was a double duty hot wired fence around the whole property, sense detectors on trees and hidden cameras here and there. She wished she had been watching them more carefully now. There were a few people who had access to the farm which meant they could bypass the security. But she doubted they would come through without first alerting her.

“Nat—” The voice was too far away, she couldn’t tell who it was. They knew her! _Who would dare_ — But the snap of some twigs and leaves forced Natasha to take another step and shoot the gun into the sky. It was so, so loud. Natasha was sure Laura would rush down soon enough— unless the children woke up and she had to run back to sooth them. Oh, she hoped Nathaniel would wake up again.

“I swear I will shoot you—”

“Natasha! Wait!” He came out of the shadows, hands high above his head, trying to conciliate her. It wasn’t working. Her heartbeat was still beating against her chest like a hammer, some water had come to her eyes.

 _Steve_. The light from the house spilled over his handsome features, revealing a bruise around his left eye, a baseball cap over his dirty blonde hair, a blue jacket over his shoulders. His voice sounded so sure and loud. He was _alive_. And safe. Deep down, relief rolled around in her stomach. In another moment, maybe, she would’ve dropped her gun and sank into his arms, kissed him and thanked the heavens he was okay.

Maybe in another time. For the time now, she was angry. Who did he think he was? He hadn’t sent word, never alerted the house of his coming. He was just going to waltz right in. Even after everything that had happened. The memories tumbled in her brain; Vienna, Germany, the airport. She hadn’t known when she would see him again. But she hadn’t envisioned this. Here. Him looking handsome and safe when she was frazzled and so tired. “What do you want?” she asked, taken aback by the spite in her own voice.

It took him a moment before he tried to answer. _Good_. He deserved to know how pissed she was that he just showed up. He looked from the barrel of the gun and back at her. “Same as you. Making sure Laura’s okay.” He looked into the house, his eyes catching on the light coming from the living room. Laura was moving through the house. “I did drag her husband all the way to Germany. I needed to see—” Natasha’s eyes moved once to her right before watching him again. “I guess… I guess I was hoping to find you here. Or that Laura would have some word of you.” He dared to look up at her.

She glared back but the gun suddenly felt heavy. She lifted her head some. She wanted to tell him she was okay. She was taking care of Laura and the kids. That it was good to see him again and that she was so relieved he was okay. But instead, “You shouldn’t be here,” she said with a shake of her head. “I let you escape four days ago, Steve, but there were consequences. Consequences that will last for-- You should be hiding… away from me.”

He took another hasty step, wringing his hands. “I couldn’t leave my team.” She stared at him, unsure, but he was already dropping his hands to his sides. “I couldn’t leave you.” Something cracked. Ugh, and so easily. How did he do that to her? But he was being fully honest. She could see it in his face. _He couldn’t lose her._

“And your pal?” She stopped, immediately searching the dark yard. Barnes. The last she’d seen of him he had seemed sane. But was he safe? Had Rogers really brought him to a farm with kids? “Where is he?”

Steve shook his head. “He’s not with me, Nat. He stayed back—”

“Natasha?” Laura’s voice floated in the warm air. Natasha turned to her as Laura stepped out of the house, the storm door squeaking shut behind her. She frowned down at Natasha’s gun. “What on earth is going on?”

“Hey, Laura,” Steve said. Laura turned her head quickly. Steve stood there, his arms limp by his sides, breathing in evenly as if he had to brace himself to see her. It quickly dawned on Natasha Steve felt responsible for Clint. He likely had as much guilt as she. Clint and all the others were missing. And in one way or another, one could always point the fingers at Captain America and Black Widow.

Laura looked back at Natasha. “Is he being tracked?”

Natasha looked over Laura’s shoulder. “The bike? _My_ motorcycle?” He smirked and she couldn’t help an ease come to her body. “Came from the Quinjet?”

He turned to the side, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “The Quinjet’s parked a few miles back, closer to the fence line. I didn’t think it would be right to land it so close to the house.” No matter the situation, Steve was still being considerate. “It was in stealth mode, Nat.”

Natasha gave him a grateful smile and looked back at Laura. “The Quinjet’s stealth can’t be tracked.” She locked the gun’s safety back and settled the butt down on the porch. “He’s okay.”

Laura nodded before taking the steps down the porch. “Thank goodness you’re alright,” she said, making her way to Steve, her arms out for a hug. He bent to her level, sinking into the hug even though his eyes seemed distracted. Natasha watched him carefully, memorizing every expression, every twitch of his hands.

“I’m so sorry, Laura,” he breathed but Natasha could hear it all the same. Natasha felt his guilt. His grief. She looked away, biting back at her own aggravation. This was no more on him than it was on her. On Tony. On Barnes.

Laura gave Steve a squeeze before pulling away. “Don’t, Steve. Clint knew what he was doing. He wanted to help. You can’t blame yourself for his decisions.” One glance at Natasha, then Laura squeezed his arm, nodding back to the house. “Come on inside. You must be exhausted. You hungry?” She started back to the porch and Steve slowly followed.

Natasha stepped back as Laura skipped up the steps, rattling on about warming up that last bit of soup. Laura would now be housing two fugitives and she hadn’t given it a second thought. She welcomed them in like family. Natasha watched her go, more than thankful. When she turned back, Steve stood at the steps, so close to her now. She sighed. “You scared the hell out of me, Rogers.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, looking back up at her. She could see the bruise better now that light from the kitchen stretched across his face. It was becoming purple, green in a few spots. His eyes looked tired but they were still that bright blue. A little scruff had started on his face. Her fingers twitched with the urge to rub her knuckles against it. Gah, what was wrong with her? He didn’t seem to notice her annoyance with herself and shook his head. “I’m sorry I put you at risk in Germany. You trusted me, but—”

Natasha couldn’t help but dip down and press her fingers against his lips. His reaction was everything she’d wanted. His eyebrows shot up but he became still as stone, watching her. She licked her own lips, suddenly really sensing his beneath her fingers. She dragged her eyes back to his. “I’m just glad you’re okay… really,” she muttered, finally letting a smile loose. His smile teased her fingers and she pulled them back, clenching them in a fist. “Though, you’re lucky I didn’t shoot you in the leg. I was about that annoyed.” He finally chuckled and it warmed her to her toes. She scoffed and leaned down, dropped her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her closer in the hug. “I might still shoot you, you never know…” she muttered in his shoulder. His laugh rumbled against her and she grinned before pulling away and tugging his cap over his eyes. “Come get some dinner.”

__________________

“So, you didn’t tell me,” Natasha said, sliding into the seat beside Steve. “Where’s Barnes?” Steve found himself seated at the Barton’s kitchen table, a bowl of hot soup and a cup of tea in front of him, both steaming up in his face. It felt good. It felt so good to be back in a _home_ , with friends and familiar comfort food. So much weight had been taken off his shoulders. The hardest parts were past him: finding Natasha and facing Laura. Both had been easier than he expected.

Laura had welcomed him in with a hug and food. Natasha had almost shot him, yes, but he knew she was glad to have him there. The Barton kids had woken up from Natasha’s shotgun and he had gotten his full of hugs and questions battered here and there. Though he had said it was unnecessary, Natasha had moved out of the guest room and into Lila’s so he could have it. She had waved off his protests. “Lila and I are already slumber party pals.”

He glanced at Natasha, holding back a smile. He couldn’t really explain how relieved he was to be back with her. To see she was okay. To see her dressed in white pajamas, a warm mug cradled in her hands as she leaned on her elbows over the table, wild curls falling over her shoulders. She hadn’t styled it in any way. She looked relaxed and well. She eyed him carefully the whole night, though he wasn’t sure what she was looking for.

For now, she danced her finger around the steam drifting from her mug. Steve glanced at Laura who was wiping down the kitchen counter with a wet rag. He dipped his spoon back in his soup. “He’s in Wakanda.” He didn’t look up for her reaction but she went still beside him. “King T’Challa is helping him fix… well, whatever it is HYDRA did to him. They’ll put him in the ice. I’m not sure how long he'll be there.”

He finally dared to look up at her, spooning some of the soup in his mouth. She stared at him, dumbfounded but a quick grin took over her face. He ignored his first thought of how cute it was. He looked back in his soup. “You cannot be serious,” she said with a chuckle. But then she jerked away and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard to leave him. I suppose it’s the best thing for him.”

He still did feel half himself separated from Bucky. Bucky was family and the one thread from his past life. It had been hard to leave Wakanda. But he knew it was the best thing. Bucky had made the decision. It was time for Steve to make his own decisions.

He suddenly realized Natasha likely didn’t know why T’Challa would help. She didn’t know about Zemo. About the fight Steve had had with Tony. He set his spoon down and looked back at her. She was still watching him and cocked her head, a question in her eyes. So he told her everything. He told her everything he knew or was sure of, at least. Tony. Zemo. T’Challa. Bucky. She listened. Laura came to sit with them. Neither said a word. They just watched him, nodded a few times, Natasha’s eyes found her mug again when he talked about Tony’s parents, but both listened to the whole story.

When he was done, he stared into his soup. Steam didn’t meet his face anymore. He stirred the spoon around, finding pieces of meat and a few tomatoes. Natasha sighed as she rested into the back of her chair. “The bruise?” she finally asked, glancing at him. He didn’t know what she meant at first. And then he put a hand to the bruise at his cheekbone close to his eye. She gave a weak smile. “Tony throws a punch.” She looked away, thoughtfully. Steve thought to say he never doubted it but stopped as he watched her stare into her tea. She took in a deep breath, shook her head a bit, and drank from the mug, as if dismissing some thought or memory.

“So Bucky’s in Wakanda. You’re here. You could’t leave your team behind.” Her face suddenly fell but she masked it with a shake of her head. “I don’t know where they are, Steve.” She looked at Laura for a second before pulling one knee up against her chest and turning to Steve. “Ross took them after you left Germany. Last I had spoken to Tony…”

Steve nodded. “I know where they are.”

She stared at him but it was Laura who leaned over the table and spoke. “How? Where?”

“King T’Challa has… a thousand resources.” Natasha scoffed but didn’t look at him. Steve looked back at Laura. “His men were able to find them. Ross did take them. He put them in a prison called the RAFT.” He looked at Natasha. “It’s designed especially to hold enhanced and powered individuals.”

“Clint doesn't have powers,” Laura said, frowning back at Natasha and Steve. Steve wondered about mentioning Clint was definitely capable of breaking out of a normal prison and Ross had good reason to be careful.

Natasha grunted. “Ross had always planned it, hadn’t he? It didn’t matter if you’re super-powered or not. You were an Avenger. And if you didn’t accede to the Accords, he’d put you away. Where is this RAFT?”

Steve cocked his head. “That’s just it… it’s in the Pacific Ocean.”

“What, an island somewhere?”

“No… it’s _in_ the ocean.”

The kitchen became deathly silent. Natasha stared at him for the longest time and he had to look away, unsure of what else to say. He had told the truth. He had given them the only facts he had. And the worst part? It was all he had. Just _facts_. He had no plan whatsoever. T’Challa hadn’t really given him any ideas either. Just a location and some blueprints and the added note that he should find Natasha. He had found her. But what was the next step?

“But you plan to get them out?” Natasha asked, resting her elbow against her knee. “So you came to me?”

“I can’t do this alone.”

She groaned, looking back Laura. Laura stared hopefully back but Natasha turned to Steve too quickly. “Steve— You’re talking about a heavy security prison. And one that holds enhanced beings? Who knows what that even entails! If you got caught—”

“I’m not giving up on them,” he said, defensively. He hadn’t expected her to act the way she did. Usually she was so quick with a plan. This time, she seemed determined that there was no way. When he had found out about the submersible prison it had just made him more angry and determined to fight Ross. He couldn’t be sure what it made Natasha feel.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna get yourself capture, maybe killed, doing it.” She stood, grabbing her mug. “I’m not going to be responsible for you too.” She glared at him before moving into the kitchen and pouring her tea down the sink. “Why doesn’t your King T’Challa help you, anyway?”

“He can’t,” Steve replied. “It would be a threat to the country if the King of Wakanda made a move— Black Panther or no.” She didn’t question him any further as she leaned into the counter. Maybe she was right, though. Maybe they couldn’t get into the RAFT themselves. They would need help. “What about Fury?”

Natasha lifted her head. “I haven’t been in contact with him for months.”

“But you could contact him,” Steve added. She bit on the inside of her lip, staring out in the room. She was contemplating it, he could tell. But there was something else on her face than concentration. _Fear_.

“Natasha?” Laura’s voice was so quiet. But Natasha immediately pulled herself to a stiff standing, folding he arms over her chest. “You said you would find him. We know where they all are— can’t we…”

“Laura,” Natasha groaned, rubbing her face with her hands. “Unlike King T’Challa, I have zero resources.” She pulled her hands way. “I can’t just break into a underwater prison. It would take me weeks to find a way in— if I ever did. And then what happens when I get them out? They’re in as much danger here with me! And what happens if all the planning we somehow come up with makes things worse? What if Rogers gets caught—”

“Natasha.”

She turned away when he interrupted, running a hand through her hair. Something was wrong. So, so wrong. And he couldn’t see what it was. Was it him? Was it the risk they would have to take to find the team? Guilt. She felt responsible for the team being in prison. He could see it in the sag of her shoulders, the drop of her head. He felt the urge to make one stride in the kitchen and hug her. Whisper to her that none of it was her fault.

He didn’t have time before she turned quick, jabbing a finger at him. “I’m not losing any more people.” She looked at Laura. “And I’m not risking you and the kids.” Her eyes drifted between them before she grimaced and walked out of the room, shaking her head, wearily.

Steve pushed his chair back, ready to go after her, but Laura tugged on his forearm. “Not yet, Steve.” She kept her eyes on the abandoned hallway. “Give her some time.” Steve looked back after Natasha but settled back in the chair. Laura released him. “She blames herself for all this, you know.” Steve thought about what Clint had said to him in Germany. _She’s worked her butt off to prove I hadn’t made a mistake_. Now the Accords, the one thing she hoped to wipe her ledger, had put her friends in prison.

No, this wasn’t on Natasha. It wasn’t even on the Accords! It was Ross’s doing. Tony’s negligence. The people with agendas who created the Accords. Laura folded a napkin in front of her. “She’d hoped the Accords would fix things. It only seems to have wreaked things.”

“You don’t blame her for this,” Steve said, already knowing Laura’s answer.

Laura jerked her head to him. “Of course not. And Clint doesn’t either. She’s trying her hardest to fix everything and anything, though.” Her eyes looked sad when she gazed back in the hallway. “But she can’t do _everything_.”

Steve looked back into the hall. She couldn’t do everything, oh, but how he understood how much she wanted to. He too threw all responsibilities and guilt on his shoulders. He thought it was what made him a leader. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

"Just give her time, Steve..." 

___________________

Natasha knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Still, she had slipped in the bed beside Lila who slept sound, burrowed beneath the covers. Natasha had dropped her head on the pillow just to stare blankly at the ceiling above. She had run through everything Steve had said at the table. Bucky. Tony. The RAFT. It would be impossible to infiltrate it. Especially since it now housed new prisoners. Everyone on that craft would be on high alert. She and Steve would likely be caught before they even found the prison.

She turned on her side, staring at the closed door across the room. Steve had mentioned Fury. _Nick_. It had been so long since she’d talked to him. More than once that week she had wondered about contacting him. He had brought the Avengers together, after all. Didn’t he have a say to their civil war?

She ripped the blankets off her and sat up, her hands splayed on the sheets beneath her. It would take hours to contact Fury, maybe days. But they wouldn't get anywhere without his help. And they needed to break their team out of the RAFT. She wished she had kept a more careful eye on Ross. She might have prepared for him putting Avengers in prison. She would’ve fought tooth and nail against him. But she had never believed he would have a secret prison, capable of containing Wanda’s power or even Captain America's strength. The thought made her stomach roll.

She looked back at Lila. Natasha had promised Laura she would find Clint. In doing so, she had promised to bring Lila’s father home. She now knew where he was. She couldn’t just sit back and hope Ross would move them sometime. There was no hope she would find Clint in a safer place. Or a place less secure. Ross would hold them back like a child with his new toy. She would have to break into the RAFT.

But she couldn’t lose anyone else. She hated risking anything at the moment. Not when the whole world was so fragile. All of her relationships strained. When she had just found Steve Rogers again.

Her eyes found the door again. She had heard him pad off to the guest room. He had been so quiet but his steps were heavy. She thought he had stopped at her door for a moment, a slip of his shadow under the door. But if he had, he thought better of knocking and had gone to bed. She almost regretted leaving him and Laura in the kitchen like that. But she couldn’t help it. She was scared as hell of losing. She had no plans. No _resources_. She would’ve fallen apart in front of them if she stayed. And Natasha Romanoff never fell apart.

Natasha shook her head before throwing her legs over the edge of the bed. She slipped off, snatching up a long cardigan from the end of the bed, and headed for the door. The hallway was dark and quiet. No one in the house was awake. She stared down the hallway at the guest room door before walking to the stairs. She pulled the sweater over her arms, quietly moving down the stairs. She caught sight of Clint’s computer in the living room. She would work the web as long as she needed; throw out some fishnets, work through code, track Fury’s last whereabouts. It would take all night before she broke through a wall.

She headed for the kitchen all the same, prepared to find some drink and some snack. She stopped midway in the doorway, her eyes catching on the open front door. Through the storm door she could see him standing out there. He was staring up at the sky, one hand in his pocket, a water bottle dangling in the other. He wore some sweatpants and a t-shirt, his head was messy from laying on a pillow. Same as her, he couldn’t sleep.

She ignored the warnings going through her head, wrapped her sweater tighter around her middle and pushed open the door. She was glad the door didn’t creak so loud like it had before when she’d kicked it open, but it still made her cringe. She would make Clint fix that when he got home. The thought made her sad. There was a part of the barn he was renovating, a wall that needed painting in the house. He had left tasks behind to fight in Germany. He needed to get home to finish.

Steve turned as her bare feet met the wood porch. He smiled when he saw her, settling down on the porch. “Hey.”

The warm evening air blanketed her but she wrapped her arms around herself anyway. She made the short distance to him, dropping down beside him. She looked out into the dark yard, listening for the call of an owl, the faint chipper of crickets nearby. They sat for a long time in the silence, neither of them trying to fill the empty space around them. It felt like old times. Long car drives, working through piles and piles of reports at the Compound, making late breakfasts on the weekends. Those old times were remarkably just weeks ago.

She hated to break the silence, but she finally looked to him. “I’m sorry I stomped off like that…” He shook his head, dismissing her words. She shook her own head. “It’s been… well, these past few days have been less than ideal. I couldn’t do another—” She stopped when he dropped his head and she scootched closer to him. “I don’t blame you, Steve. I want to find the team as much as you do. I’m just…”

“I know.” He finally looked at her and she could tell he did understand. They were both… scared. They had lost so much their entire lives and now so much more. The only family they had created in the past few years. It had been a safe place. It was now lost. She couldn’t imagine risking the last slivers they had: each other.

She looked away, staring down into the imperfect wood of the porch. The paint chipped at the edges. Natasha picked at it with her fingernails. “I signed the Accords because I was afraid.” She scoffed looking back out the yard. “And so damn tired of running. I thought siding with it, having my signature on it, would fix things. I hoped it would show how I wasn’t just the senseless killer the Red Room had created. That it would show I wanted to be on the people’s side.” She stopped, making sure her words felt right. She would never be able to confess to all of her feelings. The deep ones that killed her inside and out. But she did what she could. He was looking at her when she finally chuckled. “Didn’t work…”

He turned quickly, pressing his knee against hers. “Natasha. You don’t need some government paper to prove you’re changed. You have done so much. You’re an Avenger. You have protected and defended so many lives. You are not the killer the Red Room tried to create.” He stopped a moment. “You don’t have to fight anymore, Nat. You are not your demons. You are not your past.”

She stared at him for a long time. Her first instinct was to change the subject. She had been honest— that was the last bit of heart to heart she would do. But the way he looked at her, his eyes boring into hers, kindness and patience reflecting off his face… made her slow and soak in his words. She believed him. Somehow, he knew her for who she really was. She didn’t feel like Black Widow, famed Russian and ex-assassin, sitting in front of him. She was just Natasha Romanoff: a clean slate, his partner, his family.

 _Family_. It didn’t matter if he believed she had stripped the Red Room of their power, not really. There were still the Accords. She had signed them and defended them. She had believed they were right. And now where was she? Living with the consequences of her mistake. The Accords had just torn the Avengers apart. They had ruined the lives of those closest to her; Clint, Steve, even Tony. She had to make amends. She would still be fighting. She leaned towards him. “But I do still need to fix this, Steve. I signed the Accords. Your team are in the RAFT because of me—” He started to speak but her fingers were on his lips again. Second time that night. She held back a smirk. “Let me face up to my own mistakes?”

He pulled away, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “You are not the only one who made mistakes these past weeks.”

“No,” she breathed, dropping her hands in his lap. King T’Challa had believed Bucky Barnes had murdered his father. Tony had believed in the Accords as much as she. Steve had risked the lives of his team, though she believed they had made their own choices. Everyone had done what they believed in, mistake or no. They had to live up to them. “But let me be the first to make amends?” A mocking chuckle escaped her and she shrugged a shoulder. “T’Challa was technically the first— I’ll give it to him.” She smiled when he laughed but her attention moved back to the yard. “I’ll contact Fury. It may take forever for me to find him… but I’ll try my best.”

He leaned over, sliding his hand into hers. She looked at him again before squeezing his fingers with her own. His eyes turned up to the sky and she followed his gaze, just now noticing the stars that filled the expanse. “You don’t see stars like that in New York.” She hummed in agreement, sliding closer to him until she rested her head on his shoulder. The stillness and quiet surrounded them again as a warm breeze pulled at Natasha’s pajama bottoms and Steve kept his eyes fastened to the sky. She could've stayed there all night.

_________________

The next morning, Steve found himself stirring from sleep by 6:00 am. He climbed out of the bed, tugging his t-shirt back on as he moved out of the room. Natasha had stayed down in the living room when he headed for bed, which was actually just a few hours ago. He had wanted to stay up with her and help in any way he could. But of course, she had swatted him away, admitting she worked better on her own. Of course.

Steve made his way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The house was so still and quiet in the early morning. Natasha was no longer at the computer. He hoped she had gone to bed quickly after him. He went through the kitchen, a bit startled as the coffee pot brewed and gurgled. Laura might have been awake somewhere. He grabbed a clean mug from the sink and poured himself some of the hot beverage the minute the machine had quieted. Morning light infiltrated the kitchen, purple and pink lights covering the countertops.

He frowned when he heard a strange sound from outside. Getting his mug, he walked through the hallway to the front door. Confused, he opened the screen door and stepped out on the porch. Sure enough, a jet was landing in the front of the yard, debris picking up in its wind. He searched the porch and there stood Natasha, another mug in her hands, her messy hair falling over one shoulder. Lila stood next to her, watching the jet with such attention, and fiddling with one of her braids. Natasha looked at him and smirked, her eyes darting from his face down to his bare feet. “I told you I’d do my best…”

Steve looked back to the jet, quickly understanding. Nick Fury. Natasha had found him. And he had come. Maria Hill was the first to come from the jet’s belly, waving an arm to the house. Lila gasped quietly and waved a hand back before looking at Natasha. Natasha gave a small nod with a smile and the little girl jumped from the porch, all ignoring the steps. Steve supposed the Barton children were as close to Fury and Maria as they were to Natasha. They all had great ties to Clint. Steve watched as Lila headed for the jet before walking towards Natasha.

Natasha smiled at him, bringing her mug back to her lips. “I just didn’t tell you how good my best was.” He stared at her but she kept her eyes to the jet as she sipped her coffee. She was amazing. He found himself staring for too long and jerked his head away when she snuck a glance at him. “We’re gonna get them out, Steve.”

The team. He looked back at her and nodded. He was sure of it now. “I know.”

She nodded, grazing her fingernails against his forearm as she headed back for the door. “Come on. Fury will want breakfast since traveling the long way here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha at the porch with her gun was inspired by Scarlet from the Lunar Chronicles!  
> You might remember Tony saying 'Cap threw a punch' in chapter one-- that's what Nat was remembering at the kitchen table (maybe you knew but i just wanted to add this!)  
> also I totally believe Sharon told Natasha where team cap was-- go watch the movie again! T'Challa asks Natasha if she knew where they were and she said "I know someone who does" and then the scene cuts right to Sharon Carter... so yeah!


	4. Chapter 4

_Clint Barton’s Farm_

“The RAFT has been in development for years. Ever since the Hulk destroyed half of Harlem some years back.” Nick Fury said it plainly as if the information were trivial. He spread butter across a piece of toast, his one eye kept to his task. “I was part of the planning when we recruited the Avengers in 2012. We had a cage prototype on the Helicarrier that year. Unfortunately, the demigod Loki destroyed before it was put to any use.”

Natasha sat across the kitchen table, spinning a spoon in a very dark cup of coffee. Maria Hill sat at the head of the table to Natasha’s left, watching Nick as she brought a cup of coffee to her lips. They had been there at the farm for half an hour and already they were discussing their extraction plan for Steve’s team. He sat beside Natasha, an untouched plate of fried eggs and so many sausages in front of him (compliments to Laura who somehow knew how to feed super-soldiers). Natasha knew he was probably famished but he seemed too distracted by Fury’s words.

“You mean you were a part of this?” Natasha could hear the condemnation in Steve’s voice and she wasn’t surprised by it. Nick sometimes did questionable things for the good. Steve never believed in those tactics. She stayed still. But Steve’s words just made Nick lift his head.

“Steady, Rogers. It was only a form of protection when I was part of the project—” Steve scoffed and looked to the kitchen window. Nick hardly seemed to notice the interruption. “—We needed a place for people like Bruce Banner. A place where we could contain raw and sporadic power. But it was only supposed to be used for enhanced beings who couldn't be in control— those who were brain manipulated, those who needed rehabilitation. Most of us hoped its purpose would be to contain super villains, mostly. But by the time the plan for the RAFT was fully constructed, S.H.I.E.L.D. was out of the picture and I was in Europe. I didn’t have a hand in the cards anymore.”

“So Ross did,” Maria said, looking back to Natasha and Steve. Natasha looked away, finally drinking from her coffee. “When the Accords came into the picture, Ross should've believed that not every superhero would sign it. He needed a plan for the…” She glanced to Nick and back at them. She cleared her throat. “…rebels.”

Natasha chuckled before shaking her head. “Is the RAFT in the Accords?”

“You haven’t read it?” Nick asked, biting into his buttered toast. Natasha glanced at Steve who finally started cutting into his eggs. He ignored her look and Natasha turned back at Fury. “Of course it does,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Not specifically and it’s about as clear as crap. The political mumbo-jumbo of those documents…”

“Can we get them out?” Steve finally asked, forking a piece of the egg yoke as he glanced back up at him.

Nick watched him for a moment, pressing his elbows on the table as he fiddled with the napkin in his hands. He sighed before glancing at Maria. She eyed him for a moment before leaning forward. “It won’t be easy.”

“I didn’t expect ‘easy’,” Steve muttered, frowning at them.

“The RAFT is one of the most secure prisons in the world right now,” Nick said, his voice low and steady. “They’ve just _recently_ been occupied with prisoners. Though the threat of someone attacking is slim— not counting us— they will be on full alert for days, every hour, every minute. This will not be a normal extraction.”

“But it can be done,” Natasha finished, keeping her eyes glued to Nick’s.

“With you… it can.” He reached across the table to grab the jam and Maria immediately set to her bowl of oatmeal. Steve slowed his eating, his eyes darting from Nick to Natasha. She tensed under his gaze but Nick was already talking again. “How many high-security places do you think the Black Widow has broken into?” Natasha glared at him. But he had a point. She had broken codes, tricked security surfaces, enticed a dozen official men with her body and wit, crippling businesses and countries. And maybe she could do it again with a little backup.

She’d been scared to risk it with just her and Steve. But now that Nick Fury was there, she felt a confidence and power that had left her ever since Germany. Maybe it was because of how much he believed in her. Maybe it was because of how he dropped it all in her lap and just stepped back, waiting to see what she would do. Ha! Even if she was still in her pajamas.

“I’d have to see the building’s blueprints,” she said, looking at Steve.

“T’Challa gave it all to me,” he said with a nod.

“We’ll have the equipment you’ll need,” Maria added. “And if we don’t have it, we’ll get it.”

Natasha nodded before giving them all a good look. “Alright… let’s get to work.”

__________________

_24 Hours Later_

“You know I would do this if I could,” Steve said, handing her S.H.I.E.L.D. special equipment: a tracking device. It would track the security barrier around the RAFT, the pattern of the water around the building, and her own progress.

“But you can’t. So I’m doing it,” Natasha said, taking the device from his hand. She was dressed in a black bodysuit, not unlike her own Black Widow suit. Only this was especially for swimming, water resistant fabric and hood. An oxygen tank was only a small pack in the fabric at her back, with only so much oxygen for her mission. A watch on her wrist told her her time and her amount of oxygen.

Steve looked down at his own clothes. He was disguised as one of the guards in the RAFT. The black amour stuck to his body like a cocoon, even worse since he wore his own clothes underneath it. It was necessary, though, so he would not complain. He wished he would take Natasha’s place, all the same. He could hold his breath so much longer under water without ever needing help from an oxygen tank. But he was far too large to make it though the sewage ducts and he knew he could never hack into the building’s mainframe like Natasha could.

The plan was… well, figured out in about two hour’s time. It was neither safe nor exactly sound. One wrong move and it would crumble. Natasha was trusting the plan and she was trusting they would all do their job. She would be the one to swim beneath the RAFT and get inside. Steve and Maria would disguise themselves in with the new transfer guards coming that day. Fury would be in the Quinjet; he was their only escape.

Steve’s stomach writhed with his anxiety. He was usually calm under pressure. He was determined to free his teammates no matter how dangerous the plan was. But this could also go wrong in so many ways. He knew he wasn’t prepared for anything to go wrong.

Natasha, on the other hand, seemed calm. She tightened the straps of her suit around her stomach, snapped the device she’d taken from him to the belt around her waist, studied the watch on her wrist, and tucked her hair over one shoulder. “Relax, Rogers,” she chuckled, as if she had heard his own anxious thoughts. “This has to work… so it’s going to.” She looked back at him and though it surprised him at first, her hand cupping his face sent a warmth to his skin he had been craving. “Just trust the plan.”

He stared down at her for what seemed like a long time but by the time he’d prepared a reply, she was already turning away. He followed her through the Quinjet, taking in a deep breath. She was right. It would work. It had to work.

“Alright, Maria,” Natasha said, stepping into the cockpit. Maria was finishing pulling on her disguise, the helmet lifted above her head as if she had been testing it. “You know the plan. Get to the transfer guards with Rogers. Disappear as soon as you can. Find out where the prisoners are being held. I should already be in the mainframe by then.”

“Got it.” Maria looked over her shoulder to Fury who sat in the pilot’s seat. “We have an hour to get to the transfer’s jet. You should drop us off here.”

She and Natasha took a step back to the other room and Steve moved over to Fury. Fury glanced up at him before flicking a few switches. Steve ran a hand through his hair, his eyes gazing over the land in view. “Keep an eye on her, hmm?” Fury looked back at him and Steve sighed. “This could work or it couldn’t. But we can’t lose Natasha in the shuffle. We can’t, Nick.”

Fury stared at him before nodding. “Hear you loud and clear, Captain.”

The ladies walked back in the room. “You ready, Rogers?” Maria asked, tugging some black gloves on. Steve felt the plane start to descend, a tightness in the air around them. Both ladies hardly seemed to notice as they jet moved slow, though Natasha kept her eyes to the window. He nodded to them both. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” Maria nodded before turning away to the end of the room. Natasha followed with them, sliding her hand against a frame in the wall. The belly of the jet began to open and fresh air swept through. Maria was already out on the grass, her head swiveling from left to right. _All clear_. She tucked some hair behind her ear before tugging her helmet over her head. Steve followed her, snatching his own helmet, breathing in the new watery air. They were close to the sea, he could tell.

A hand snatched his elbow before he got too far down the ramp. “You be careful, hmm?” Natasha said. Her concern somehow warmed him to his toes. But his job was easy. He was more worried about her. She didn’t seem to care. She gave him a quick nod. “Don’t do anything stupid. Keep to the plan.”

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He looked down the ramp where Maria was waiting, her face completely hidden by the black helmet. He looked back at Natasha and took her head, squeezing it tight. “You be careful too.”

She smirked before tugging her hand away from him. “Just watch… it’s gonna be fun.” He felt a smile, a real smile, tug at his lips as she repeated her own words. Words she had said years ago in New York. He hadn’t known her well but she had amazed him even then. Jumping from his shield to an alien speedster. All the while, joking with him.

Natasha vanished into the the jet and he turned back to Maria, suddenly aware she’d probably seen all of that. Noticed Natasha’s flirtatious smirk. Noticed how long he had stared after her. He cleared his throat, ignoring the thoughts, and pulled his helmet over his head. Maria watched him—well, her helmet stared at him but he was sure he could see her suspicious eyes boring into his. He turned away, pointing down the hill and sighting the ARMY building. “Down there?”

Steve decided to ignore the slight shake of her head as she led them through the grass. He looked back over his shoulder but the Quinjet was already in stealth mode and completely invisible to him. He turned back to following Maria down the grassy hill. Cold wind pushed and pulled at the tall grass that rose to his knees. They didn’t talk as they moved down the hill, though they both looked at their clocks more than once. _Only so much time…_

Finally, Steve ducked low, gripping Maria’s arm as he moved to the ground. The base was now in good view which meant they were visible themselves. Maria let him take her to the ground, keeping her helmet faced to the tall chained fence around the perimeter. Men and woman moved around the camp, dressed in uniforms of many colors; greens, browns, whites.

“I don’t know this place,” Steve muttered, keeping his eyes to every being that passed.

“An old army camp built during the second World War. It’s been off the maps ever since. Obviously, it’s worked well for the RAFT. They can switch guards back— even train them here.” Maria sighed. “We have about a three minute window to get over that fence and meet with the transfers.”

Steve nodded but his eyes stayed to the guards at the fence’s entrance. They’d have to go around. “Let’s take your left.” Maria nodded before crawling along the grass. Steve followed her, looking over his shoulder once. It was a small base, he couldn’t imagine it would be hard to infiltrate. Especially since all the transfer guards were wearing the exact clothes as them, dark helmet and all. Steve counted the seconds in his head, praying above that they would be quick enough. They couldn’t lose their window. Maria seemed calm as she rolled down the hill, water from the tall grass sticking to the soles of her boots. Steve followed her lead again before they both slowed to sit on their knees. The fence was now but three feet in front of them. “You can make the climb?” Steve asked, turning to her.

She chuckled. “Don’t worry about me, Cap.”

“On three, then.” He crouched and she mimicked his pose, taking in deep breaths. “One… two… three.” Steve ran for the fence, clutching the cold wiring in his fists, and pulled himself forward. Three footholds and he soon gripped the top steel, heaving himself over the edge. Maria was slightly slower but she was pulling herself over by the time he jumped from the fence to the dirt. She stumbled as she fell beside him. “You good?” he asked, giving her a hand.

She squeezed his offered hand before rightening herself and nodded. “I’m good, I’m good. Come on.” She started walking to her left— but Steve stilled. Loud voices over the one building in front of them. Heavy boots falling on the ground ahead of them. She hissed his name but he was already tugging them against the nearest wall. Two guards, dressed in the same black clothing came around the corner, two rather large guns in their hands. One glance at Maria and Steve moved first, kicking the gun away from one of the guards. Maria took care of the other, swinging her leg around his shoulders and twisting him down to the ground. Steve knocked out the other with a quick throw of his fist into his face. He crumpled to the ground. Steve snatched up his gun, heading back to the corner of the building, peering into the camp. Maria followed suit, pressing her back against the building beside him.

“What do you see?”

Steve looked a minute longer, noticing the pack of dark dressed soldiers standing beside a chopper. It was fired up, ready for takeoff. Steve leaned back to look at her. “This is our window. At least thirty guards stand by the chopper.”

Maria nodded. “Well, we’re dressed the part. And these guys definitely came from the pack,” she said, pointing her gun for the two soldiers. She glanced back at him. “Let’s go.” He nodded before stepping out from behind the wall. Keeping the gun close to him, he looked both right and left before making for the group of soldiers. Maria kept up with him, standing a bit taller and looking stronger, but he believed the suit was bulky enough to disguise she was a woman. They blended into the crowd of guards and not one seemed to notice them.

Of course, the minute he wanted to be thankful for it, one turned to him. “What was it? Some interference with the fence?”

“Yeah, it was nothing,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head. He was thankful the helmet muffled his voice.

“Stray fly?” one joked, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. Steve tried to chuckle with him but he wasn’t that good of an actor. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

An officer walked up to them, folding his arms behind him. “The RAFT is a secure base just ten miles out in the Pacific. You have one job to protect it from any threat. You will be returned to the base in a month. Stay alert— the Secretary of State may very well be visiting. Even the legendary Tony Stark has made a visit lately. Never know when the idiot may want a selfie.” A few of the soldiers snickered but Steve tensed. “That will be all.” The officer stepped away, two other men following him.

Steve let out a tightly held breath. The hatch of the helicopter opened and the men started piling in. He followed Maria, keeping close to her as possible. He didn’t want to lose her. Once all of the men were in, they slammed the door shut and it became darker, the hum of the engine so loud in the tightness of the room. “Step one done,” Maria muttered. Steve nodded but didn’t look down at her. Two soldiers faced them but they didn’t look as if they were paying attention. Well, Steve couldn’t tell under these stupid helmets. So he just did his best to seem inconspicuous.

“Let’s just hope Romanoff will get inside on time…” Maria muttered again, letting out her own stressed sigh. Steve kept staring ahead but oh, how he agreed with her.

_______________

“We’re here,” Nick said, looking over his shoulder from the pilot’s seat. Natasha stood behind him, taking in a few steadying breaths. She had paced up and down the jet’s helm, wondering over and over again if Steve and Maria had succeeded. Of course there was no real way of knowing until they possibly met up again in the RAFT.

And now it was time for her to get inside, herself.

She pulled her curls over one shoulder and started braiding it tight. “Remember,” she said, turning back to him, “Hover nearby. This can only take us no more than forty minutes.” He nodded— of course. He knew their strategy, they had gone over it a thousand times. He knew what he was supposed to do. She was nervous deep down but the way she braided her hair would be the only indication. She hoped Nick wouldn’t notice.

“Give ‘em hell, Agent Romanoff,” Nick said, finally putting the jet in co-pilot mode and pulling away from the chair. He came to stand in front of her, giving her suit a once over for any loose straps or faulty issues.

“I’m not an agent anymore, Nick,” she replied, looking down at the watch on her wrist.

Nick scoffed but folded his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t stop you from giving anyone hell.” She laughed and took a step back, splaying her arms out for inspection. He stared at her for a long moment before, “This will work, Natasha.”

Worry settled in her stomach but she ignored it away and nodded. “It has to.” She looked away before he could glimpse any anxiety that may have betrayed her on her face. He simply nodded before turning back to the helm. He was trusting her on this. They all were. She took in another deep breath before moving to the end of the ship, snatching up the skintight mask for her suit.

She opened the hatch, taking in a deep scent of the ocean’s air, crisp and salty. Water sprayed on her face as the jet descended on the water. Natasha looked over her shoulder once before tugging the mask over her head, zipping it at the neck. Stifling a shiver with the new cool air, Natasha flexed her fingers in and out before she sprinted across the deck. One jump and she crashed into the stormy, cold water.

It was freezing.

She groaned but stared back up, catching just a hum from the Quinjet engine over the water muffling her ears. She was alone to do her job, now. She glanced down at the watch, sighting her oxygen. 99%. She took a turn, searching the water around her. Miles and miles of of it. She pulled out the tracking device Steve had given her before. It blinked up at her, indicating the direction she’d take. Before she could let the anxiety tighten around her throat, she plunged into the abyss, kicking her arms and legs against the current as she moved to the deep.

She ran through the plan in her mind as she swam. She wished she could pick up her speed but she had to reserve her speed and not to mention her oxygen. She couldn’t strain anything. She kept an eye on her device, tracking the distance she had painstakingly made against the rough current. Nick’s maps of the ocean floor wouldn’t fail her. Steve and Maria wouldn’t fail the plan and they would get in the RAFT. She would get inside the vents of the RAFT. She wouldn’t fail them all.

She stopped when she found large poles sticking out from the sand. In the gloom, she could just make out the wires stretching from one pole to the next. She glanced down at the tracker. They were the security fences. Hot wired. One glance to the sand below, proved it worked well enough. The bones of stray fish littered the ground, along with some toasted seaweed. Natasha carefully swam towards one of the poles, retrieving two small shaped balls from her belt. She pressed them, one on top of the other, into the bars, pressing her fingers into them. They blinked two red lights and Natasha swam back, pushing the water away. A flicker started along the wires, sparks flying out in the blue waves. She heard a hum along the fence— disabled.

She couldn’t help a smile as she slipped over the fence and made her way through the clear barrier. She would have twenty minutes before anyone in the RAFT realized they were down. She could get her best work done in twenty minutes. An easiness settled in her bones since she’d been successful. A few more fences and she’d be safe.

When she was past them, a dark gloom started at the end of her vision and she gasped. She was staring at it, the black steel and fierce construction staring back. The RAFT was a gigantic circular monster in the ocean, its expanse stretching from her right to her left. She shook away her awe and swam towards it, leaning her head way back to see how high it stretched. She couldn’t find the top. She found the platform underneath it, wheels and gears on the concrete floor. The mechanics to lift the RAFT above the water. It would happen soon when the new guard transfers would arrive.

Natasha looked down at her wrist. They would arrive in about three minutes.

Her oxygen: 56%

She calmed her nerves with a new steady breath. It would all work out. A rumble started at the ground below her. She gasped before swimming away as sand and bubbles floated to meet her. With a creaking groan, the RAFT began to move towards the cloudy light above them. Natasha finally caught glimpses of the belly of the beast, water circling and twisting underneath it with a force. She was supposed to swim right through that. Or at least, far too close to it.

She swam towards it, anyway, kicking her legs fiercely. There was no time to waste. A tidal of water pushed her forward, kicking her against the wall. She groaned with the impact but kicked herself higher, pressing her fingers into the steel, looking for any hold. She felt lines and dentures in the steel but nothing more. She’d have to find the ducts in seconds— maybe it was like a door, a hatch. She glanced at her watch, though it was hard to focus on since water pushed and trapped itself against her. But she caught a glimpse of her oxygen. 37%.

She cursed before pushing herself off the RAFT. The water guided her around the structure, and for that she was thankful since she could search the exterior. _Come on_. _Come on_.

The RAFT stopped ascending and the water slowly stilled around her. She swam closer to the steel again, her eyes roaming every bit of it—

Her eyes snagged on a fixture on the wall, one red light shining in the sand shadowed water. She tried to look down at her tracker but it was no use. She couldn’t be sure they were the ducts she’d been looking for but it would have to work. She had to get inside. At least the RAFT hadn’t made any more circles— these had to be the ducts facing west.

She swam toward it with a force, before pressing her hands on top of it. A quiet hum started at the base. The RAFT was going down. Panic enveloped over her and she reached for another of her disabling equipment but before she could, the red light turned green. She cursed before the door opened and water gushed out from the box. Natasha was pushed back but she gripped the door with all the strength she had. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled herself forward and jumped through the hole. She heard a bang and a groan behind her and then she swam in darkness.

A beep sounded nearby her and she felt the water that sat at her waist start to slip away. She scrambled away, watching as the water was sucked up. The RAFT system… The duct would be dry in minutes. Natasha finally sat back, unzipping the mask around her. When she pulled it back, she took in such a deep breath, gasping in her relief.

She was in.

She pulled her wrist closer to her face but her arms shook. She wasn’t sure if it was her nerves or just the lack of strength she had since swimming so much. 10% oxygen left. She threw her mask off, dropping it to the ground. Pulling her gloved hands through her hair, she groaned, her bones exhausted. Her adrenaline started to slip away. The waste ducts were opened every thirty minutes. She’d been lucky to get there in time. But it only meant the door would open again in thirty minutes. She would have to get out soon.

She rubbed the back of her gloved hand over her forehead before summoning strength and crawling further in the tunnel. She took a few turns before finding a different duct above her head. She pulled herself up and pressed her back against the wall, stretching her legs across to the other side. From her belt, she pulled out a screen, small and circular. She turned it on, slamming her hand against it a few times. It came to life, green words sliding across the black screen. It was time to hack into the mainframe. She pressed it against the wall, turning it like a gear. Then, her fingers were flying across the screen.

________________

Water sprayed on all of the guards as they climbed out of the chopper. Steve had an uneasy feeling as the RAFT began to descend back in the water but a roof had slid back over them as covering. Water was everywhere but no one seemed to care. Some men were even sucking up the stray water with some machine. The guards stayed in place but Steve was already looking around. It was larger than he had suspected, even though he had studied the building’s blueprints for days. And so dark, with just hues of blues and blacks under the lights. Soldiers, men and women, stood at doorways, walked up and down the room, some were even getting lunch on one side of the room as if they were in a normal ARMY base. He could’t count all the guns he saw.

A sergeant walked up to them, tugging his hat off. “Men.” They stiffened around him and Steve followed suit, ignoring how much it bothered him. Maria hardly seemed troubled. “We’ll lead you to your sleeping quarters. You’ll rest the evening before you take your required places as new guards. You’ll be here for a long time, men. Come.” He turned away, leading them away from the chopper. Steve looked once over his shoulder before following all the others. The man allowed for some questions, though he answered each one tersely. He led them down brighter hallways, never looking back at them. Steve perked up when one of the soldiers asked about the security measures. Though the sergeant was careful with his words, he prided over how his men had just quickly taken care of a issue with the underwater perimeter. _Natasha_. A trimmer suddenly went along the walls and Steve was reminded of the angry ocean waves just outside.

Maria suddenly jabbed him in the ribs and she pushed them both inside another room. Steve studied the room for a second. A table stood in the middle and a window on his right overlooked the entrance they had come from. On his left was another door. The room was empty. Steve turned, giving Maria ‘an all clear’ with a wave of his hand. She took the chance to pull the helmet off her head. “Gah, why do they make these things so tight?” She slammed it on the table and moved for the screen on the wall. “He was talking about the hot wired fences-- Natasha would've disabled them. Come on, Romanoff… tell me you got inside.”

Steve took off his own helmet, watching as she worked on the screen, sliding her fingers across and typing in commands he could never understand. Natasha would've had time to get by undetected. But did she? He got distracted with the papers that were laid out on the table, sliding his own fingers along the crisp edges. They were statistics… names…

“Well, well, well,” Maria laughed. He dropped the papers and turned back to her. She looked over her shoulder, grinning at him. “She did it. We’re in.” Steve was filled with relief and, surprisingly to him, pride that Natasha had succeeded. Fury had talked of how hacking into the RAFT's mainframe would be the hardest part. But Natasha Romanoff had done it in minutes. He had been the most worried about her part in the mission but he never should have been. Of course, she had succeeded.

“What now?” he asked, moving closer to the screen. The only thing he could see was a mess of words and numbers.

Maria shook her head. “Natasha has to give us passage and then we have to find the cells. Of course, we may have to fight through the guards.” She typed fiercely across the screen. “The prisoners are in this wing.” She stopped and pointed to the screen. She grimaced a moment before shrugging. “We have to get through this room. They monitor the prisoners there. It’s heavily guarded.” She stopped for a moment. “She has the cameras. And the locks codes.” Maria stepped away from the table and started unzipping her suit, revealing her old S.H.I.E.L.D. garments underneath. “You got signal comm? We’ll have to alert Fury.”

Steve retrieved the device from his pocket, setting it on the table. _Old tech_ , Natasha had chuckled. But Steve had snuck it into the RAFT undetected and Maria guarantee it worked. Guaranteed? It would make or break the mission. He stripped himself of the heavy black guard clothes too, thankful to be back in his own clothes. Some military pants and a black jacket over a tight t-shirt. At least he wasn’t so warm anymore. Maria pulled a phone from her back pocket and he could see the layout of the building on her screen. “Alright.” With no flourish, Maria moved to the second door, clutching her phone close. 

Steve grabbed one of their large guns since Maria had a Glock on her leg and another at the back of her belt. He looked over the room once before following her through the door, shutting it closed behind them. They walked through a dark hallway, quiet and still from any other guards. Steve slipped his earpiece into his ear, his senses straining to hear if they’d been detected, to see down each end of the hallway in case someone else was there. He heard and saw nothing.

They took another turn and another and by the time Maria stopped, Steve was too confused to know how far they had gotten and how long they had been walking. He hoped the next door would lead them to the prison cells but then a blaring alarm went off and Steve knew. The RAFT knew of its intruders. Maria turned to him, calm and not surprised. “We don’t have much time left,” she said, all the same. A banging started in the floor beneath them and they both turned just in in time to see a vent door being kicked into the air.

He moved quick, stepping over it to see Natasha squirming out. “Hey, you,” he said, leaning down to give her a hand. She sighed so heavily, either relieved to see him or just plain exhausted. He could imagine. She was wet to the skin, the slick black suit kicking droplets of water as she squeezed through. He pulled her out of the small hole and she jumped back to her feet. “You good?” He kept his hand on her elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” She brushed him off, flipping her hair back and forth as she pulled a small rubber band from it. “How are we? Have you found the cells?” She moved towards Maria but Maria was already pulling her gun out from her back.

“We have one more hallway. And then we meet a room full of guards.”

Natasha looked back at Steve. He just nodded.

“I still have hold of the mainframe,” she said, lifting her device as she looked back at Maria. “I can still get Fury here even if they try to lock down the place. We need to hurry, though.”

She looked back at Steve. “Let’s do this then. I feel like giving a few punches and breaking some bones after seeing this place.” Maria nodded and started down the hall again. Natasha smiled at him before following her. He took in a deep breath but his fingers curled into a fist, prepared for a fight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy, happy, happy June!!!! Aaaahahahahaha I have a chapter up!!! I know this world is pretty insane right now and I am right there beside all of you, praying for a new world and standing up for people wherever I go. Love is the answer for all of this, guys, I know it is! That being said, I hope some of my fanfic gives you a chance to rest back and take a breather because that is so important. I heard someone say recently if we're only talking about the news and only focusing on the horrible injustice of the world, we will run out of steam and none of it will eventually matter. It has to matter forever. We should talk/learn/fight about the racial issues of the world but we can still rave about how much we love donuts. So we need to continue fighting and loving, but we should also still enjoy and talk about other matters; still make your friends laugh, bake those cookies, love on your dog, create what you love. You should never feel guilty for sitting down and writing your own stories or creating your own fandom edits or reading fanfic in these trying times. I'm not saying this chapter that I created is something absolutely amazing (or peaceful, maybe, lol) but it was like therapy to me. And it gave me a recharge for the next day! I loved doing it. And I hope you really enjoy it. -- Caro <3

_The Raft_

Natasha counted down the seconds in her head. She could hear the guards shuffling and muttering on the other side of the door. She estimated at least twenty-five men were in the room. Fighting them all would take so much of their time. But Maria showed her the phone for the second time. There was no way to the prisoners but through the guards.

She leaned her back against the door, feeling the vibration of the room behind it. Computers. Guns. Coffee. She could smell it. She took in a deep breath.

And with one glance to both Steve and Maria, Natasha pushed open the door and shot the first guard in the leg. As suspected, there were soldiers everywhere and they all became alert at their comrade’s cry of pain. “Hey, fellas. Sorry to ruin the party.” There was no peaceful talking after that. Each guard pulled their weapons out and moved quick. Steve and Maria rushed in behind Natasha, both pulling out their guns, though Natasha never heard a shot from Steve’s large one. She allowed them their own fight and forced through the soldiers in her direction.

Alarms went on and off as Natasha kicked a soldier into the wall, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder as she dodged the knife thrown to her. She snatched the knife away, slashing at the soldier charging her. He gripped her arm and she could tell by his strength it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Not after wasting all her energy on swimming. She kneed him in the crotch instead, before turning quick, her arm still gripped by his, and kicked him in the stomach with her heel. He yelped for the second time, finally loosening his grip and she jumped away, elbowing him in the face. She jumped over his unconscious body and gripped the next soldier by the strap over his shoulders. He gasped with the force, barely catching himself from tripping. He looked ready to use his weight against her but a bang of a gun startled both of them and blood splattered from his shoulder. The guard in front of them cursed. Natasha was lucky the soldier she’d been fighting was in the shooter’s aim. She tugged his gun out of his holster and fired a few shots to the soldier ahead. She intentionally missed before slamming the gun’s butt into the head of her hostage. He slumped down and she ran for the other guard, flipping over his shoulders and trapping his neck between her legs. She made a twirl before pulling them both to the ground. A quick punch to his face had him unconscious before she hit the ground on her knees.

A hot bullet whizzed past her arm, barely grazing her, but she ran for the soldier before he got another chance. She threw a punch to his jaw, shaking him out his thoughts, before she grabbed his head, hitting him against the wall. He fell unconscious and she turned quick just to slam into Steve. He was just chucking a guard over his shoulder, effortlessly. Natasha ignored her thought of how _hot_ that was and gave the room a full circle. There were a litter of unconscious bodies around them and she noticed Maria holding a gun to a guard who sat at the table. He looked young. And terrified. Camera footage filled the screens on the walls in front of him. Most of them were static since she’d hacked in the system while in the vents. But the cells’ cameras were still on and Natasha saw glimpses of faces she knew. Wanda. Sam.

And across the room was a large grey door. Their entrance. Red lights gleamed around them, only reminding Natasha of their lost cover. More soldiers would be coming in soon. They could get caught in minutes if her timing wasn’t correct.

Natasha took in an exhausted breath and pulled some hair from her face. She moved towards them, pulling her gun from her holster. “Get us inside the cells.”

He stared at her for a long moment, taking in her and Steve’s famous faces, calculating his next move— before he jumped up, pulling a gun out from his waist. Maria cocked back her gun’s safety but Natasha was already twisting the gun from the soldier’s hand. “I’m impressed by your last effort,” she said, snatching the gun from his grip. “But I wouldn’t risk it anymore.” She shoved him back into the seat and Maria pinned the chair back to the table, pressing his abdomen into it. “The cells. _Now_.”

He gulped but didn’t stare at her long before he reached over the table, pressing commands into the computer keyboard. Natasha watched his every room, waiting for a trap but it didn’t come. The man turned to her. “It will need a handprint for the door.”

“So get to it,” Maria said, prodding his back with her gun.

He lifted his hands and shook his head. “I never had clearance.”

“So which of these guards did?” Natasha asked, waving a hand to the bodies around her. The man looked down at them, horror sketching across his face as if this was the first time he had noticed the bodies around him. He gulped again. Maria took a step closer to him. He shook his head before pointing to a blonde haired soldier far from them. Natasha smirked and nodded to Steve who walked toward the soldier, plucked him up and brought him to the thick door.

Natasha followed him, lifting the soldier’s wrist. “He better not be lying to me,” Natasha muttered but pressed the guard’s hand into the scanner anyway. The light turned red, scanning the print and then clicked green. Natasha let out a quiet sigh of relief before nodding to Steve. “We’re in.”

Steve dropped the soldier and took a step back as the door unlocked. A creaking and whooshing sound came from the walls as the door opened. Natasha rushed back to Maria and hit the back of the young man’s head with her gun. “Let’s go.” Maria rushed past her but Natasha moved to the computer, typing across the keyboard and killing the cameras in one command. Ross would know who helped his prisoners escape but neither Maria or Fury needed to be found out. He would only have the word of his soldiers.

“Keep a lookout, Maria?” she said as she stepped into the prison. Maria nodded, now lifting Steve’s large gun. Natasha bit her lip, putting two fingers to her wounded arm. It was just a bloody scratch but it was still burning. Her steps echoed off the walls, so loud to the large expanse as she stepped into the dark prison. A greenish light came from the large cells, all sided together across one side of the room. She stopped, sighting her friends in each cell. Wanda’s was first. Clint was behind her. Scott was up in his bed in the next cell. And Sam was in the last, pacing up and down. Steve moved toward his cell. Natasha stayed frozen in the middle of the room.

Sam’s voice seemed to boom in the silence. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

Natasha grinned then. Even from there, she could tell he was smirking at Steve.

“Hey, man,” Steve chuckled, stepping up to the steps to the cell. “Sorry about the delay.”

Movement on the other side of the room caught Natasha’s attention. “Rogers?” Clint leaned against his cell glass, trying to see him. Natasha felt glued to the shadows. Cells. Prisoners. And under water. It was hard enough to believe it. It was worst to see it. And she couldn’t help but remember it was all part of her doing.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” Steve said, with such a lightness in his voice that she hand’t heard in days.

“How did you find us?” Steve didn’t answer but turned to Natasha. She felt like shrinking away with his gaze on her but instead she put her gun back in her holster and stepped up beside him. Sam’s eyebrows jumped up in surprise but he nodded. “Hey, Nat.”

Steve turned back to Sam. “I got some help.”

“The old man couldn’t do it without me, he said,” Natasha chuckled, jabbing a thumb at Steve. Sam laughed but she shook her head, already reaching for the belt at her waist. Though apology after apology was forming on her tongue, she knew there wasn’t enough time. She would have time to make up for all this later. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“Well, I could’ve done this quicker than you, Romanoff,” Clint’s voice drifted down the room, a sarcastic chuckle escaping him. Natasha rolled her eyes but grinned all the same. She continued her work, pressing a small circular dice onto the wall beside Sam’s cell. She jumped back up to Steve, handing him two more.

“These will work the lock system in five seconds.” He nodded before moving to the end of the room. Natasha looked back at Maria once. She still stood guard but she was keeping an eye on her watch.

Natasha rushed to the next cell. Scott stood there, hands in his pocket, a relaxed but bored expression on his face. “Hey.” Of course. This wasn’t new to him. Lang had served a few times for burglary. _“Really? You hired a burglar turned ant to fight Iron Man and Black Widow?”_ she had said to Steve just that morning. He had chuckled. _“Hey, I wasn’t the one who hired a teenager from Queens.”_ Natasha couldn’t argue with that.

“Lang, right?” She pressed the disk beside his cell.

“Yeah,” he muttered, leaning over to inspect her work. “Really glad to see you guys— but… didn’t I fight you in Germany?” She just smirked up at him before running to the next cell. “Hey! Is this thing gonna blow?” The minutes he asked, the bars slipped into the walls and created his release. “Oh,” he muttered behind her.

Natasha stepped up to Clint’s cell, gripping the cold bars. “Ready to get out of here?”

Slumped over the railings, Clint grinned stupidly at her. “I knew you’d come.”

“You have too much faith in me, Clint,” she muttered, digging in her belt for the other disks.

“And I’ve never regretted keeping that faith,” he said, standing taller. “How’s Laura? The kids? You’ve been with them.”

She nodded before pressing the disk to the side of his cell. “You never told me you postponed a waterskiing trip to fight in Germany?”

“Hey, my best friend needed me.” Natasha finished her work but jerked her head to him. She hadn’t thought of him going to Germany specifically for her. She had always believed he’d gone because he trusted Steve and wanted to stand by him. But he had gone for her?

The questions were making their way to her mouth but before she could voice them, the bars slid opened and he rushed out, crushing her in the tightest hug. She froze with his fast reaction, grunting slightly as she was pinned to his chest. But then she chuckled and slowly relaxed, bringing up one arm to rub his back. “Missed you too,” she whispered into his shoulder. She felt her eyes sting with water but that could’ve been from all the adrenaline. Right?

When he pulled back, he pulled hair from her face and squeezed her shoulders. If they were indeed tears in her eyes, it was too late to hide them. She chuckled but soaked in his warm touch. She noticed the wet splotches her suit had left on his prison clothes but he didn’t seem to care. He just seemed too relieved and ecstatic she was there. “When we get home, you’re coming with us on that waterskiing trip.”

She laughed and rubbed at her nose. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Her eyes were pulled from him with movement in the next cell. Scott was now at the doors of the cell, looking in uselessly. She could hear Sam and Steve talking quietly inside. Clint followed her gaze before groaning and moving to the doorways. Natasha looked over her shoulder just to find Maria looking back. She just nodded. They were on time…

Natasha moved into the next cell with the boys, just to stop suddenly, pressing a hand to her mouth. She could sense Scott beside her, keeping an eye on her reaction. He had seen Wanda in this condition for days. But Natasha could hardly move. Wanda Maximoff sat still in the cell, strapped in a straightjacket, her arms and legs covered in its blue material. A red light blinked from a device wrapped her neck. A power dampening collar. Like she was a dog. Her hair was greasy, resting down on her shoulders in unkept, natty curls. And her face… she was so pale.

Steve was crouched in front of her, talking so softly to her. She seemed dazed as she stared at him but tears pooled down her cheeks. What had they done to her?

Natasha moved into the cell, dropping between Steve and Sam. She caught Steve’s gaze but she didn’t have to stare long to see the anger reflecting in his eyes. It was already rolling off him in waves. Or maybe it was her own anger she was feeling. Natasha glared back at him but then turned to Wanda. “Hey, Wanda.” Wanda just frowned at her. “We’re gonna get you out of here. Clint?” Sam crawled around Wanda and Clint moved to Natasha’s side. Natasha knew how much Clint and Wanda were close. He was the only Avenger Wanda trusted for some time after her brother’s death. Between Clint and Steve, at least, Wanda should feel safe.

“Let’s get this off her,” Natasha directed, pulling out a knife from her belt. She passed it to Clint but Steve was already ripping the material with his bare hands. It was quick work and soon enough Wanda was free. She took in a sharp breath. Beneath, she wore the same blue prisoner clothes the boys did, though it as far more wrinkled.

Steve moved to grab the collar at her throat but Natasha gripped his arm. “No. Wait.” Wanda jumped from Natasha’s quick commands but Steve immediately pulled his hands back. “It prohibits her from using her power. But it could also keep her submissive. A jolt of electricity, a dose of some drug to keep her still— Just removing it could hurt her.”

“How the hell are we gonna get that off her, then?” Clint growled, watching Natasha.

“Romanoff, you better hurry in there!” Maria yelled. Natasha cursed. They were losing time. Natasha looked back to Steve. He seemed to read it on her face. They had no choice. Natasha reluctantly nodded.

Steve moved back to Wanda, his fingers curling around the collar. “It’s okay, Wanda. We’re gonna get this off.”

Clint shuffled closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You gotta trust us, Wanda.” Natasha and Sam moved further away, giving them space. Steve gripped the collar, his hands twisting to break it apart. A bolt of electricity went across Wanda’s neck and she screamed out. Clint cursed and Steve grimaced.

Natasha breathed heavily, guilt and bile rising in her throat.

The minute the collar _cracked_ and broke apart in Steve’s hands, a sigh of relief went around the room. Clint pulled Wanda close to his chest the moment she was free of the steel. Tears streaked her pale face. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all done,” Clint muttered, smoothing her hair down.

Natasha moved closer to them, putting a hand on Wanda’s leg. “You’re good, you’re good.” It was in that second that Natasha looked into her face and found her eyes had gone red. Her powers were back.

It one moment, Natasha was thrown across the room and into the wall, her back biting into the concrete as Wanda’s red power squeezed her throat. Yells and curses filled the room but Natasha was too taken aback to fight yet. Well, maybe she wasn’t too surprised. She had fought Wanda in the German airport. She had signed the Accords. She was the only enemy there in Wanda’s eyes. She was half the reason Wanda was _there_. Chained like a sociopath.

She heard Steve’s yelling voice among the others but Wanda’s gripped seemed to only tighten. Natasha’s head suddenly ached and her vision blurred. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time! Natasha tried to grip the red power but it was no use. Her finger danced straight through it. Her last fight cost her her last air. She groaned as her arms went slack. Her surrounding muffled. Her eyelids lazily shut.

Something caused Wanda to stop because just at that moment, Natasha fell, the hold on her neck releasing with a quick pulse. She hit the ground, her head and ribs screaming with pain with the quick fall. She groaned but that quickly turned into ragged coughing as air met her lungs again. She cried out, pressing her hands to the ground, an effort to pull herself up. Her muscles didn’t seem to obey her will, which still screamed that they didn’t have time.

She felt warm hands come to her arms, helping her up to her knees. “Hey, hey,” a gentle voice soothed. When she was up, he pulled her hair back, cupping her face until she looked at him. Steve. _Steve_. He was there. Her head throbbed but she managed to stand straighter, taking in as deep breaths as she could. “Oh, Nat—” His fingers grazed her neck and if it was meant to be comforting, it wasn’t. Her skin was on fire and his touch only made her shiver which caused her head to ache all the more.

She pulled from his touch. “We don’t have time. I’m good.” She pushed against his chest to try to stand but that just made her dizzy. She fell back to her knees and took in another breath. Anger flared on his face and he looked back at Wanda. Natasha pinched the skin at his hand. It was not Wanda’s fault. “She was just on the defense.” Steve looked back to Natasha and she shook her head. “We have to go.”

He looked down for a second, collecting himself before he nodded. He stood and gave orders but Natasha could hardly focus on his words. She was still collecting her senses. Suddenly, his hand gripped her wrist, pulling her up to standing. The rush sent her dizzy but she held on as he pulled her arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go, let’s go,” he yelled as he pulled them out of the cell.

Maria took the lead after that, stepping through the still unconscious bodies they had left, swinging her gun back and forth through the hallways. “We don’t have much time. We have to get to the top now. The Quintet will be waiting. Rogers!” Natasha ignored his apology as he shuffled in his pockets before retrieving the signal device they would use to alert Fury. He chucked it to Maria who turned away with it. Natasha and Steve were keeping up the rear, with Clint and Wanda just in front of them. Clint kept his arm around her but caught a few glances back at Natasha. She gave him a thumbs up just as she started catching the ground beneath her own feet. Though her head still hurt like hell, Natasha started feeling right again. She pulled herself from Steve but kept ahold of his hand. He tried to smile down at her but it was faded by the mere determination on his features. They were almost there. He squeezed her hand before following the others. Maria took them down hallway after hallway before stopping quick. She banged the butt of her gun into a soldier before turning quick. “They’ve brought reinforcements. Come on!” They picked up their pace then. Natasha pulled out her gun, pointing down hallways as they passed, never taking her hand from Steve’s. They slid to a stop when Maria brought them to the entrance. Choppers and other planes filled the space. And so did many more soldiers. But the ground was starting to shake and rumble and cloudy light casted on the floors.

They were above water. And the RAFT was opening up to the Quinjet.

Shouts and orders filled the room as guards rushed in. “Take cover!” Maria yelled, pointing her gun to soldiers at the staircases. Natasha finally pulled her hand away, shooting soldiers behind her. They had more guns and she dove for cover. She found herself against a siding of concrete, just below the small steps leading to the choppers. She pressed herself against the wall. The hardest parts— breaking the security, releasing the prisoners— were past them. Now, they just had to get to the Quinjet without getting killed. It should be easy.

Natasha looked around her, finding Clint and Wanda were closest to her now. Steve had moved across from her, squished between Scott and Sam behind a standing shelf filled with chopper equipment. Bullets ricocheted off the steel, sending sparks into the air. Natasha ducked further, turning to Clint. She gripped his wrist, passing her second gun into his palm. Wanda beside him, kept her head down, whimpering with each gunshot. “Get my left?”

Clint nodded and there was a sparkle in his eye. Natasha chuckled before turning quick and aiming her gun for the nearest soldier. The RAFT stopped rising and they were fully in the open air. Water splashed onto her, sending a chill to her bones. The wind pulled and brushed at her hair. Shouting, bullets and the roar of the moving sea filled the air around them. Clint was a quick and good aim and between the two of them, they removed more than a dozen threats.

“Romanoff, let’s go!” Maria’s yell was heard over the ruckus. Natasha turned just to see Nick had landed the Quinjet. Maria and Lang were already jumping inside.

“Let’s make a cover!” Clint said, grabbing Wanda’s hand. Natasha nodded, turning back to shoot another soldier. “Wilson!” Sam moved from Steve’s side, ducking his head as he got to them, wrapping his arms around Wanda. “Get her to the jet. And tell Maria to use the guns on that jet!” He turned back to Natasha.

“No, Clint!” Natasha pushed him back, moving further from their cover. “Get to the jet! Don’t argue with me!” Clint allowed her pushing but he gripped her hand so tightly, Natasha wasn’t sure it was him moving them to the jet or her. They both shot any threat they saw, dodging whizzing bullets that always came to close. Ricocheting off steel, sparking the ground and their own equipment. They both jumped when bullets roared from the Quinjet’s belly. Maria would make better cover for them.

Natasha made a circle, finding Steve behind, finally using his large gun as he moved behind them. “Rogers, pick it up!” He didn’t look back at her and his aim was good. He didn’t aim for individuals but rather railings, stairs, walls. He was distracting them. But there wasn’t time! Before she could go after him, Clint was pulling her with a force to the Quinjet.

Natasha and Clint ran for the jet, turning their backs on the RAFT soldiers. Up ahead, she saw Sam suddenly slump, his shoulder jolting back, blood spitting down his sleeve. Natasha quickened her pace before she was by his side, holding him up. Clint moved for Wanda, pushing her up into the Quinjet. Sam pulled himself up into the jet but just then bullets hit the Quinjet’s siding, far too close to them. Sam roared but got inside, turning back to give her his hand. Natasha gripped him, hauling herself in—

But not before she felt a slicing pain meet her side. It tore through her skin, exploding fire rising up her body. She screamed out, falling down into the jet’s flooring. She heard her name yelled out from so many voices but it was the hands behind her that she focused on. She didn’t have to see if it was Steve. She recognized his gentle but strong touch. He got in the jet behind her, the door rushing closed behind. Many hands pulled her further into the jet, all dropping beside her. Natasha put a hand to the right side of her body, just below the ribs, and felt a warm liquid seep to the skin of her fingers. Blood.

Heat engulfed her, sweat enveloping at her forehead. The Quinjet’s engine roared as she felt them fly off, the speed capturing the air around her. “Sh_ _ !” she cried out, the mere annoyance of being shot worse than the pain of it. _She had been shot._ And shot bad. Blood spurted from her side, hot and sticky. It would ruin the floors soon enough. She willed herself to calm down, gathering any senses she had left. She pressed her hand into the side, panting as much as she could.

She felt Clint’s presence beside her, Wanda further back; just watching. They were both blurry…

“Natasha, Natasha,” Steve called, his voice uneven, shaky, as he pushed her face up to look at him. She forced her eyes to focus on his. Blue. Sky blue. With flecks of gray. Focus. Focus. She felt his knees biting into her back, making her aware she was in his lap, her head resting into the crook of his arm. His other hand came over her bloody one, putting more pressure on the wound. She yelled again but knew his pressure would only help. They needed to stop the bleeding.

Needed to stop the bleeding.

Stop the bleeding…

Her eyelids dipped.

“Natasha— Nat! HEY!” He shook her, lifting her head up and down with his arm, jerking her back to consciousness. “Stay with me, Nat! Don’t go to sleep. Not yet!” She looked back to his face, no longer seeing that determination, that beautiful boyish softness, complete hope. Steve Rogers now looked scared. Terrified. Hopeless.

Maria dropped beside Natasha, something clattering across the floor beside her. “This is gonna hurt, Nat,” she warned. Natasha didn’t have time to brace or even comprehend before Maria stabbed some needle into her skin. Natasha screamed this time, lifting her head from Steve’s arm. “We need to get this bullet out and stop the bleeding.”

Natasha felt hot tears on her cheeks. _Get the bullet out. Stop the bleeding._ It wouldn’t matter. She felt herself slipping away. Her eyes blurred with the tears. A faint darkness started at the edges of her eyes. Her brain was fuzzy. Though Steve still kept their hands to the wound, her muscles went slack resting in her puddle of blood. She felt herself be lifted. Closer to his chest. The movement was the last pain she could take. She heard Steve yell out her name, a desperate cry, before she dropped her head back and everything went black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "when you hurt under the surface  
> like troubled water running cold  
> well, time can heal, but this won't"  
> \--lewis capaldi
> 
> I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL CHARACTERS OR QUOTES!! there is a scene straight from the movie and few lines in this chapter!

_London, England. Days before_

_There’s plenty of room on the jet._ She was smirking playfully up at him. Her voice echoed off every space in the gigantic cathedral. They were alone, standing small in one aisle of church pews, saints and apostles from stained glass windows watching their every move. Cloudy light seeped through glass, illuminating the rich colors of the walls around them.

Steve Rogers had lost the love of his life. He had held her coffin over his shoulder. He had cried more in the past few hours than he had in a long while. Maybe the tears were overdo. And on top of all his grief and loss, the Accords were looming over his head. He would have to decide if he truly didn’t want to sign the Accords or not by the end of the day.

He had distracted himself during the funeral. They had honored Peggy well. Her niece had talked. They had sung beautiful hymns. White lilies filled the expanse of the chancel. And so many people had attended; people who had stood by her side during the war, during the startup of S.H.I.E.L.D.; people who had loved her, who were loved by her. Every person who attended had all been made better by her impact. He loved that about Peggy. In a sense, seeing everyone there to honor her, it felt like she was still there.

He wasn’t exactly surprised to see Natasha had stopped by. He was incredibly thankful. Sam was with him, yes. But having another friend have his back felt good. It felt safe. And it felt like family. He knew she was likely going to be late in getting to Vienna. But she had stopped by anyway. For him.

He also wasn’t surprised she was trying to get him to come along. So much of him wanted to take her up on the offer. They would travel together. He could listen to the United Nations conference. Go home later that evening… It sounded easy but he knew he couldn’t get away with it. Natasha was going to represent the Avengers. His presence would do that same thing.

He shifted against the pew he leaned against, taking in a deep breath. What if he did sign? Would it be easy to just lay back and trust his government? He would take orders from them. It wouldn’t be the first time. But in doing so, every single time, he learned taking orders wasn’t something he could do easily. Some leaders always had an agenda. And he had convictions. They always butted heads. The Accords would be the same. He couldn’t represent or support them.

He couldn’t.

Steve sighed and sat back against the pew. He heard her breathe in deep before taking a step toward him. He clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes to his shoes, tensing as she spoke in the empty silence. “You know, just because it’s the path of least resistance… doesn't mean it’s the wrong path.”

Steve lifted his eyes to hers. He wasn’t positive of her reasoning for signing. She had said the Avengers were making big mistakes. Maybe they needed to take a step back. But he felt like there was another reason. Deep down. Natasha Romanoff had another reason for putting her signature on that government issued paper. Maybe it had something to do with her past. The world knew what she was since she dropped all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files on the internet. Maybe signing the Accords would clean the slate. But she didn’t really think that…

Once they had their eyes on each other, Natasha nodded like she felt the right words coming to her mouth. “Staying together is more important than how we stay together.” It could be the reason. The Avengers were family to both of them. He knew they both wanted to keep the team together. But they couldn’t do it with this.

He nodded. “But what are we giving up to do it?”

Natasha watched him for a moment… before dropping her head and sighing. It was all he had to say. He had made his decision. And she knew it. He chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nat.” He looked back to his shoes and shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t sign it.”

She was quiet for a moment before she nodded. “I know.”

He gazed at her, a soft smile coming to his face. They had been in this situation a dozen times. Searching each other with careful words and soft eyes. He had made a decision he wouldn’t sign the Accords. And she had understood. She had always known he wouldn’t sign them. She knew him so well. He couldn’t be sure he knew her as well. She was like a puzzle, with so many small and intricate pieces. And yet, he did think he had managed to crack some surfaces. She would blame it on how much time they spent together. He would just take advantage of it. Which is how he knew there was another reason she was there. “Well, then what you doing here?”

Natasha lifted her head, allowing hair to pull back from her face. “… I didn’t want you to be alone.” It was the best reason he could’ve hoped for. Natasha. The one person who had stuck by his side for so many years. Even when they disagreed on something big like the Accords, she would still be there.

He lifted his head, staring deeply at her. He couldn’t say anything. He had lost Peggy. Things were changing with the Avengers. But she was there. “Mmm.” She smiled softly as she put a hand on his shoulder. He sighed before slowly moving towards her, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “Come here,” she said as she pulled him into a hug. He sank into her, slipping his hands around her waist and tugging her close until he was sure she’d have to stand on her tip-toes.

“Thank you,” he muttered, rubbing his hand into the low of her back.

She drummed her fingers on his back. “You gonna be okay?”

He nodded against her. “Yeah, yeah.”

She pulled back to look at him. He stared down at her as she cupped his face. She stood taller, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He sighed and closed his eyes as she stayed there, taking in her touch, the scent of her perfume, her warmth. She inched back, moving her hands to the lapels of his jacket and smoothing them down. He pulled his hands from her waist but neither of them took a step away. He watched her carefully as she fixed his tie, licking her finger once to ease down a crease. It seemed like such a natural action but also…

She looked back up at him and he blinked. Warmth slowly filed his cheeks. He looked down, reaching for her hand, tentative fingers against delicate fingers. Natasha let him take her hand but he could tell she was still looking at his face. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted things to change. How he wished he could go back before the Accords. How much he felt…

Finally, he glanced up at her. “Thanks, Nat.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.”

_________________

_Clint Barton’s Farm_

He hadn’t left her bedside. He had changed into some jeans and a white tee while she slept and Clint had left to get a shower. Steve didn’t need a shower. He didn’t really need the pizza Laura had brought him hours ago. He just needed to keep his eyes on her. He needed to make sure her chest came up and down with each breath. She had bled so much. Her skin was so pale. She looked close to death. But she was fighter. She was fighting so hard.

They had arrived late the night before. Maria had taken the bullet out the second Natasha had fainted. He couldn’t imagine the pain she’d been in. When they had arrived at the farm, Steve had carried her princess style into the house and in the guest bedroom. He had slept there the first night at the farm and he was planning to now sleep on the floor until she woke up.

He wasn’t sure how everyone else was doing. The last he’d seen, Maria had taken care of Sam’s wounds as well. He had commented about how much prison food sucked and he had missed pizza. In other words, Sam was himself. Clint looked exhausted but Steve could imagine that was both his worry for Natasha and Wanda. Wanda had hardly spoken a word on the journey to the farm. He hoped she was getting some rest.

Nick and Maria came in and out. They tried to speak to Steve about a million things. But he just wasn’t giving them the attention they needed. He wanted Natasha to wake up first. He couldn’t make any decisions or process any news from CNN or Ross until she was awake.

And she needed to wake up. He needed to talk to her. He needed to see her smirk, that sparkle in her eyes. Heck, he’d love for her to tease him right about now. But all he had for now was the steady sound of her breathing and the cold skin of her hand. He had held it for the last half hour.

“You know, it isn’t your fault she got hit.” Sam’s voice made Steve jolt. He lifted his head to see his friend in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other arm in a black cast. He shut the door behind him and moved towards the bed. Steve gently dropped Natasha’s hand back in the sheets, moving a little further from the bed. “Come on, man. You’re not making this big of a fuss over my injured shoulder.” He chuckled but Steve couldn’t even look at him. It was true, he supposed. But in Steve’s defense, Sam hadn’t been injured like Natasha. She could’ve died. Sam cleared his throat before sitting down on the other side of the bed. “You know Natasha wouldn’t want you acting like this, right?”

Steve finally looked at Sam… and nodded. “Yeah.” It was true. Steve knew Natasha would’ve taken the bullet again today if it meant they got the team out and everyone was safe. She'd hate him for what he was truly feeling. He hated how much she was so sacrificial. But then again, wasn’t he?

But it didn’t change his mind. He still wished he had moved just a centimeter on that RAFT and taken the bullet instead of her. He had been right behind her. He could’ve taken a bullet easier than her. He healed ten times faster than the average human. And it sometimes looked like Natasha was the same. He sometimes believed Natasha could take anything. She was always so strong. But when she had shivered and cried in his arms while blood spurted onto her clothing, he knew she could be fragile. Like any human. It scared him to his bones.

“Besides, man. It’s not like it’s helping anything,” Sam added, staring down at Natasha.

Steve moved to his feet. He glanced at Sam and then Natasha. Sam was probably right. Worrying about it and wishing it was him couldn’t be helping anything. But Steve always carried the blame on his shoulders. And when he knew he could’ve gotten the bullet instead of her... he would still carry the blame, willingly. He couldn’t just stop overnight.

“You’re worried about her,” Sam said. “I get it, Steve.” They stared at each other for a moment before Steve finally frowned and looked away. Sam kept his eyes on him, though. “Hey, man… what’s going on between you guys?”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

Sam shrugged his good shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just noticing… something different. In the RAFT… heck, even in the Lepzig airport. Glances. Touches… Got nothing to say about about it?”

Steve rubbed a hand across his face and moved it through his hair before dropping it against the back of his neck. He was exhausted. He didn’t need to hear the twittering of the match-maker tone in Sam’s voice. Not now. “Sam… no. We’re partners. We keep an eye on each other’s back. I messed up this time. The Accords came in between us. We… we’ve been making up for it.” The words felt like glue on his tongue.

It was silent for a moment before Sam nodded. “Yeah, of course. And good. You don’t wanna be encouraging two girls at the same time. Could get awkward, right?”

If possible, Steve’s frown got deeper. He looked back at Sam, confused. But when Sam met him with a smirk, it all clicked. Sharon. Oh, he had forgotten. He had kissed her… and in front of Sam and Bucky. _Stupid. Stupid_. Steve groaned and looked back at his shoes. “I… Sharon and I don’t really have an understanding, Sam. It’s not…”

“Looked like an understanding to me… and to Barnes,” Sam said, chuckling. “Natasha would be proud of you.” Steve winced. Natasha had always been trying to match him up with some woman. Any woman, now that he thought about it. She had slacked off in the last few months and he had enjoyed it. They had just enjoyed the company of each other instead. Still to this day. He hadn't even _thought_ about Sharon in so long. It got quiet for a moment and Steve was thankful when Sam changed the subject. “So, he’s in Wakanda.” Steve nodded. “Hope they can help him. I’m not crazy about him, you know. But he doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Steve lifted his head and finally smiled at him. “Thanks, Sam.”

Sam smiled and nodded, looking back to Natasha. He frowned and leaned over, pointing. “Hey, man, look…”

Steve looked back to Natasha who was now taking in a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open against sticky lashes from old tears. Steve moved back to the side of the bed, reaching for her hand. She quickly gripped him as she took in her surrounding, her eyes searching the ceiling and then falling to Sam and then to Steve. She smiled weakly. “Hey,” she muttered.

Sam chuckled and Steve let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank God, Nat.”

“You gave us a scare, all right,” Sam added.

Natasha frowned at him. “Your shoulder. You okay?”

He waved her off. “Hurts to the bone. But I’ll be fine. What about you? You’re the one that got it the worst.”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow before moving her right hand along her ribs. She lowered her hand until she felt the rather large lump of bandaging around her. She grimaced. Steve watched every face muscle; tensing, relaxing. Warmth came to her face but she chuckled. “Hurts like hell.” Sam sighed and Steve nodded. “Okay, fellas. Give it to me straight. How am I… really?”

Steve and Sam glanced at each other before Natasha landed her steely eyes on Steve. He sighed and squeezed her hand. “You got hit bad, Nat. Though Maria thinks you’ll heal fairly quickly, you’ll have to stay put for some time.”

Natasha turned her head away, staring up at the ceiling. Steve watched her carefully but she didn’t convey any emotions on her face. He supposed she had expected the words. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and cursed under her breath. “Last thing I needed.”

“We’ll be here for you, Nat,” Sam said, reaching for her other hand. She tensed but quickly squeezed her fingers around his. She nodded solemnly, keeping her eyes away from anything but them. Steve ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Okay, ma’am,” Sam said, jumping back to his feet. “What can we get you? Breakfast? Sausage, eggs, pancakes?”

Natasha scoffed and shook her head. “Maybe in a minute. I could really do with some water, though.” Sam nodded, glanced at Steve once, before moving to the door. “Thanks, Sam,” Natasha called, finally turning her head to look at him. He smiled back before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

Natasha stared back to the ceiling. Steve brought his elbows into the mattress and held her hand with both of his own. She glanced at him, a question in her eye. The muscles in her hand twitched against his. He let out a breath. “You scared me.”

She smiled. “You got the team out.”

He shook his head. “ _We_ got the team out, Nat.”

She nodded against the pillows, her red hair humming against the white covers. It looked ratted and so curly. He thought about sticking it up over her head for her. She would tell him to _get to it_ if she really wanted it. The thought made him smile but Natasha wasn’t looking at him to notice. She was frowning at the window across the room. “How’s Wanda?”

Steve’s eyes carelessly dropped to the bruises around Natasha’s neck. The memories of the young girl’s red powers clutched around Natasha’s neck filled Steve’s head and he had to look away. It didn’t matter how many times he had seen friend go against friend for whatever reasons… He always felt helpless in the situation. Every muscle in him had wanted to protect Natasha and fight off Wanda. But Wanda was just a kid. A scared kid, too. Natasha had been right. Wanda didn’t know what she'd been doing.

Natasha finally glared at him when he didn’t answer directly. He just stared at her. Her face fell into something he supposed was guilt. Sadness. Annoyance, too. “That’s not on you,” he quickly said, a firmness to his tone. He wanted her to know it. Natasha shrugged her shoulder, pulling her eyes back to the ceiling. “Nat?” She bit on her lower lip. Steve grimaced but squeezed her hand. “Remember when we were in London? You said you didn’t want me to be alone?” She was still for a moment before finally nodding. He nodded with her and brought her hand to his lips. “Well, I’m gonna be right here for you. I’m not leaving.”

She took in a shaky breath before looking down at him. He smiled softly at her, bringing his free hand to her forehead. He brushed curls away, noting every moment the pad of his fingers touched the skin of her forehead. He pulled back, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

Her eyes moved back and forth as she watched him. And then her fingers stiffly moved in his grasp. Her index finger came to his jaw and grazed the facial hair that had started to show in the past day. “When did that start?” she asked, her voice sounding gruff and scratchy.

He chuckled and shrugged a shoulder. She laughed, her shoulders shaking with the action. “Come on. Help me sit up? Or do you think I’ll faint?”

He nodded, holding back a grin and got back to his feet. “Let’s give it a go, then.”

________________

“I’m not gonna lie… a lot of people are after your asses,” Nick said, settling into the chair across from Natasha. She was back downstairs, laid out on the couch. Though the pain from getting out of bed had hurt beyond words, being held and settled into the couch by Steve that evening was worth it. No one had fought her when she asked to come down for dinner and he had been so careful and gentle with her, she knew it had been a good idea.

Just across the room, many of the others were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Natasha wasn’t sure where Wanda had vanished to.

But Nick was right. They needed to start discussing plans. They were fugitives. And they couldn’t stay at the farm forever.

“Have we heard from Ross?” Natasha asked, pulling her hair off her neck.

“He’s put out a statement,” Nick said with a sigh. His eyes darted to the kitchen. “He hasn’t made it clear what his next move is, but we can guess. Anyone could.”

“How about Tony?” Clint asked, swinging a dish towel over his shoulder. “Have we heard from him?” Natasha eyes moved around the room, noticing each person’s reaction to the question. Steve kept to his work. Sam stood behind Clint as if asking the question as well. Laura bit her lip as she watched Nick, wiping her hands of dish soap. Scott was shoveling down a piece of chocolate cake but he still watched everyone, including her. She looked away.

“Not yet. He’ll have to make a statement soon, as well. He represented the Avengers for the Accords. I can’t imagine it will be long before he says something.” Nick glanced at his phone before leaning over his knees, dropping his elbows onto them. “Barton… Stark knows about you. Your family. Your farm.”

“Tony wouldn’t give him away,” Laura said, shaking her head.

Clint cleared his throat. Nick’s eyes moved from Natasha to Clint. “Gah…” Clint said, turning back to the group in the kitchen. Steve stood taller, looking as if he was now fully listening. “Ross will know too. Tony mentioned my family when he visited us that afternoon after Lepzig. I can guess Ross was listening in. He could use it against Tony, if necessary.”

Natasha winced, putting a hand to her stomach. Electrifying pain danced up her ribs. Clint’s family would likely be in danger. Not to mention Tony. Natasha had had her doubts about Tony giving away information about Clint and his family. But she hadn’t ever believed that he was incapable of doing it, either. Now that Ross might know on his own…

“Well, what does that mean?” Scott asked.

“It means none of us can stay here,” Natasha breathed, finally pulling her hand away. The pain slowly faded to a numbing, as did her anxiety. “We’ll have to go.”

“Where?” Sam asked then.

“You won’t be the first people to go under the radar. It will mean a lot of running and hiding, but it can happen. Barton’s done it. Romanoff has done it a million times.” Natasha frowned at him. He didn’t need to make it sound like running from governments was all Natasha ever did. He shrugged a shoulder and looked back to the group. “Hill and I have resources for you. We should leave by the end of the week.”

It got quiet for a moment as everyone soaked in the news. Sam cursed under his breath and Clint moved across the kitchen, squeezing Laura’s hand once as he paced the floor. Scott finished working on the cake.

“But…” Steve started and everyone looked to him. He locked eyes with Natasha for a second before looking back to Nick. “You said Clint and Natasha have done it may times. But us? And a group of us? That could happen?”

“If you were a platoon, then, yes,” Nick said, nodding, "then I would make you separate. But you’re just a group of six. It could be done, Captain.” Clint suddenly turned but Nick already had a hand up. “We wouldn’t leave your family on their own, Clint. My men will keep them hidden, no matter the risks. But we can’t keep everyone here.” He looked around the room, shushing them all with his calm and steely eye. “I’m going to trust Tony wouldn’t go to the utmost extreme to see any of you in jail. He might have made some mistakes these last few days, but you are family to him. He would do what he could to protect you… We just can’t trust the people around him.”

“So we run,” Steve muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“For how long?” Scott asked. Natasha looked to him, aware of his concerned look. She remembered his files. He had a daughter. Good friends. He would be separated from them for quite awhile.

“For however long it takes,” Nick answered, kindly.

“And that’s all of us? Even Wanda?” he asked again, looking out into the hallway. Nick nodded, leaning back in his chair. Natasha stared down at her lap. Wanda. The whole team. They could be on the run for years. Nick could hide them for a long time. Then they would be on their own. Clint could hide. He knew the drill.

“Nat?” his voice came from the kitchen and she lifted her head to look at him. “You okay?” He started moving out of the kitchen and toward the couch.

She shook her head. “I’m fine, fine— I just…” She looked up to see Steve come out of the kitchen and toward the other end of the couch. She glanced back at Nick. He nodded. “I just think… maybe I should go with Fury.”

Steve frowned. Clint shrugged a shoulder. “What’re you talking about?”

She sighed and looked back at her lap. “You guys should go on your own. I’m going with Fury. He’s been asking for my assistance for awhile. It’s about time I put myself to use.” She looked up at Steve again. _You’re not going with him? Noo_. Fury had offered the same deal to Steve and Sam after they’d taken down S.H.I.E.L.D. She had refused him then. She never should have.

“But you’ll be on the run too,” Sam said, leaning against the kitchen island.

“Yeah, just with him and his agents,” Natasha said, cocking her head.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Clint said, waving a hand in her face. “So what you’re saying right now, is that you’re not gonna be on the run with us? You’re going to work with Nick.” Natasha stared at him for a long moment and then nodded.

“Why?” Steve asked, his voice so stern.

Natasha looked back to him and took in a deep breath. But before she could answer with anything, Nick cleared his throat and got back to his feet. “It’s late, all. We should get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow.” Steve pulled his eyes to Nick but Nick was already walking away. Steve let out a breath, putting on hand on his hip.

Clint tapped his fingers on Natasha’s shoulder. “You’re explaining yourself tomorrow.” Natasha hated that demand, but nodded. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was him. He drummed his hands on the back of the couch before turning away, swinging an arm around Laura’s shoulders and heading up the stairs.

Sam and Scott mingled in the kitchen for a moment and Steve still stood in front of Natasha. She looked back to him and shrugged a shoulder. “Bed?” He let go of his stern face and moved toward her with no argument. He hooked one arm under her knees and the other under her arms. He lifted her like she weighed nothing more than a feather. She didn’t love the idea he had to carry her anymore. Not when he looked like she had stabbed in the back. He would understand eventually.

He made no conversation when he carried her up the stairs, down the hallway and into the guest room. Natasha didn’t even try. He looked troubled and she felt guilty. And for what reason? She had made the right decision. They would know that. She shouldn’t feel guilt. But she couldn’t help noticing the hurt and confusion on Steve’s face. _She_ had done that.

Steve led her in the dark room, gently settling her on the bed. His movements were achingly gentle. Natasha watched him, dropping her hand on his arm. He pulled away, moving to the door. Instead of leaving and shutting it behind him, he closed the door first and flicked on the light switch. Natasha winced against the sudden warm light but she shook it off. He turned, dropping his hands out at his sides as if asking a question.

Natasha mimicked him but added a shake to her head.

“What the hell, Natasha?” he finally asked. She cocked her head, acting confused. He glowered. It wasn’t her best acting job and they both knew it. “Don’t do that. What’s going on here?”

“About what?” she asked instead, looking down at the pillows.

“Oh, come on, Nat! Seriously?” He moved toward her but stopped in his tracks. “Why— Why aren’t you coming with us? You’ve never wanted to go with Fury— to what? To try to build another S.H.I.E.L.D? You’ve never wanted to do that.”

“True,” she said, taking in a deep breath.

“So why now? Now, when we need you?”

“You don’t need me,” she chuckled.

“Wh—” His frown deepened and he took another step toward her. “What are you talking about? Of course we need you, Nat.”

“You know I can’t go with you!” she said, glaring up at him. “I signed those Accords, Rogers. I fought all of those guys in Lepzig. I put them in that prison. And just because I got them out of the RAFT-- now I should just run with them and act like none of that happened?”

“Natasha.” He took another step toward her, putting his hands out.

“They don’t trust me— and they shouldn’t!” she said, throwing a hand in the air. “It’s because of me they’re in this damn situation. That’s on me. I have to live with that. They shouldn’t.”

“Natasha.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, pressing his hands into the mattress around her, staring defiantly into her eyes. She stared back, breathing in deep and heavy. It was stupid. He was stupid. Why couldn’t he just believed her? Steve Rogers really couldn’t take no for an answer?

She looked away when he kept his eyes on her, rubbing her hands together. She bit her lower lip, staring at the creases and lines in her palm. “They don’t trust me, Steve. You of all people should know, a team can’t survive without trust.” They had learned it. It had saved their lives. Sam, Wanda, Scott, maybe even Steve, couldn’t trust she’d be there to have their back. Not after what she’d done. Not after what they had gone through.

Her stomach rolled when he hooked a finger under her chin. Her eyes flitted to his and the look he had on his face made her heartbeat quicken. She couldn’t be sure what the look was. Pity. Admiration. Helplessness. _Love_. No, no, no. She pulled her face away from him. His hand twisted into a fist before he dropped it back into the mattress.

“I trust you.” Natasha scoffed and looked across the room. At anything; the desk, the window, her abandoned Black Widow suit. Anything but his eyes. “Clint trusts you too,” he added.

Natasha forced a smile. “My two men in shining armor.” She felt him squirm.

“Natasha, they don’t—”

“Wanda,” she simply said. Steve stared at her for a long moment. She stared back this time. He sighed and dropped his head. “I don’t blame her. You shouldn’t. She’s smart. She’s making the right decisions to protect herself and… anyone else.”

“Natasha, are you hearing yourself?” he asked, inching closer. She watched him, suddenly aware they were in this same position just a week before. Only reversed. She had comforted him when Peggy had died, down on her knees. Now, it was him. Only this time, Steve wasn’t comforting her. He was trying to convince her… “Natasha. You don’t have to leave. A team doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“No,” she muttered, sliding her hand over his, feeling the muscles and tendons along his skin. “But it has to have people who know they can lean on each other. It has to be a safe place. It has to have trust.” Steve swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. His jaw clenched, his eyes moving from the nightstand back to her. She let her hand move from his hand to squeeze his wrist. “We had that at one time, Steve… but nothing lasts forever.”

He glanced at her hand on top of his, when he suddenly frowned. “Oh, Nat.”

She looked down, confused, but immediately noticed the splotch of red on her green t-shirt. “Crap,” she muttered, pulling her hand away from him to lift the material. Her bandage was damp with blood. “We have to apply pressure,” she breathed, putting her own hand against the wound.

“You’ll need a change of bandages,” he added, moving to his feet. Natasha watched him leave, suddenly feeling the cool of the evening surround her without him. He shuffled around the room, likely retrieving the medial kit Maria had left out. Natasha took in deep breath, leaning against her left arm to ease weight off her wound. “If we can’t stop this bleeding in ten minutes, I’m calling Maria,” he said, coming back to stand in front of her.

“You can do it,” she breathed, staring up at him. His eyes left the bandages to look at her. She smiled but he didn’t return it. She thought she heard him curse under his breath but he quickly leaned over, keeping a wadded bulk of bandage in his hand and began applying pressure against the wound with it. Natasha groaned and he looked up at her, concerned. She shook her head, pressing her hand over his. “I’m okay.”

They sat there quietly for a moment. They were so close, their pulses against each other, their eyes locking once or twice before they both looked away. Natasha was sure he could hear her heart pounding. She became suddenly aware of it. _Crap_.

Finally, Steve shook his head, keeping his eyes to her wound. “So… what happens now?”

She stared at him. At the dip of his eyelashes, that bump in his nose, his lips. She shook her head and looked back to her wound. “Fury will help you. He might even have covert jobs for you guys. You’ll move, you’ll hide. You’ll learn quickly.”

They both glanced at each other at the same time. They were too close. Natasha’s eyes skipped between his lips and his eyes. Her heart swelled then stopped when he did the same. _What were they doing…?_

Natasha took in a breath and leaned back, removing her hand from his. He dropped his head to study her wound. Time had slowed when they were so close and the spell broke the minute she looked away. He went back to her wound as if it had never happened. The tightness in Natasha’s chest wouldn’t let her forget. Steve slowly peeled his hand away from her bandages, bringing his wad of cloth back with just a few spots of blood on it. He nodded at his work before dropping the bandage in the medical kit.

“You’ll thank me for this one day,” she said with a nod. “It’s for the best.”

He frowned at her. “And I suppose you would know what’s best." He nodded. "You were always the smarter of us two.”

His words hurt. For some reason, it hurt so bad. “Steve—”

“Let’s change these bandages,” he said, working to remove the bandages already around her waist. She tried to use her voice again, to stop his movement and make him listen. But she stopped before she could open her mouth. What could she possibly have to say? He had finally agreed to her decision. They would go their separate ways. There was nothing more to discuss.

Natasha kept silent and as still as she could as he did the rest of his work. His hands danced across her skin, so quickly. But his fingers felt like fire. It was like he left a mark on her skin no matter how quickly they were there and gone. Natasha supposed his touch would always do that. He removed the old material and added new ones, tugging and pressing whenever he needed to. Natasha didn’t bother looking at her wound when it was opened. She could imagine what it looked like. She didn’t bother studying his work either. She knew he would take care of her.

“Thank you,” she muttered, as he finished.

He lifted his head, gazing at her. “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally posted this lol-- it's kinda sad :(


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha you thought you wouldn't see me again for a couple of weeks!!!! but I'm back again. lol, this chapter flew out of me like pixie dust! it was amazing. so here's the next chapter, babes! 
> 
> WARNING! there is some vomiting in this first scene so this is just a heads-up if you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing!

_Clint Barton’s Farm_

Natasha’s stomach was upset. It had been upset since Steve left the bedroom. She was still reciting the words they had said to each other. _You don’t need me. You were always the smarter of us two._ What did that even mean? Well, she supposed she knew what he was hinting at. But what did it mean deep down to him? _Did he really believe it?_

The mere thought made her stomach flip and she slammed her fist into the mattress. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep with this on her conscience. She needed to throw up. It would be stupid to move but it would be even more stupid to just stay there and ruin Laura’s sheets. She wasn’t going to do that.

She set her hands beneath herself and started pulling her weight up. Her lower body screamed at her but her arms were strong and she pulled herself up against the pillows. She pulled her hair away from her face and took in a sharp breath, proud of herself. That had been the hardest part. She flipped the blankets back and eased her legs over to the edge of the mattress. Steve would kill her for moving on her own. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would find some stupid way to blame himself for this—

The thought made her gag. She needed to move quicker. She managed to get off the mattress but standing on her own feet felt like she was standing on jello. She shook one leg before pressing a hand to her bandages. Steve’s fingers had pressed right _there_ , near her naval.

Natasha groaned, willing the bile to stay down. She moved across the room, leaning against the chair before rushing into the bathroom. She didn’t manage to flip the light switch on, just fell against the toilet, ejecting all of her dinner inside. Her stomach clenched, her eyes burned. “Ugh…” she moaned, dropping her arm across the seat. She didn’t care.

She lifted her head when she heard the door creak open. The quick movement made her head spin but her senses stayed alert. Soft padded footsteps started across the floor. Not Steve. She would take anyone but Steve. The footsteps were hesitant, worried. Oh, she hoped it wasn’t one of the Barton kids. She was such a sight right now. They didn’t need to see her like this. 

“Natasha?”

Natasha frowned, looking over her shoulder. The young, female voice. A curl of the tongue, a recognizable accent. Wanda? _None of them trust me, Steve!_ Natasha leaned over the toilet again, vomiting. She heard the light switch on and flashing bright light bathed onto her. And the contents of the toilet. Natasha winced just looking at it.

“Are you alright?” Wanda asked, stepping next to her. She looked into the toilet and then at Natasha. “Oh, no. Let me go get—”

“No!” Natasha said, forcefully. Wanda flinched. “I’m sorry, I’m—” Natasha put her hand out to Wanda, gripping her wrist. “Don’t bring anyone here. I’m not…” She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m fine… that’s the last of it.”

Wanda stayed completely still as Natasha breathed and clutched her wrist. “How did you get here?”

“Walked,” Natasha groaned.

“Why are you sick?” she asked, turning around the room as if inspecting Natasha’s trek. Natasha turned as well, just to see a wrecked bathroom but she supposed that was likely before she ever got there. The Barton’s were never the tidiest.

“Trauma to the body,” she answered, turning back to the toilet. “Between the bullet, the—” She glanced at Wanda once, deciding not to mention the wounds to her neck. Or Natasha and Steve's conversation. “The hurry, the nerves…” Wanda could imagine— well, see— the rest. “This doesn’t usually happen to me,” she added.

Wanda sighed and put her free hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “You need help getting to the bed?”

Natasha leaned over, flushing the toilet and nodded up to the girl. “Yeah. Thank you.” Wanda helped her to her feet, careful to ease her into it. Natasha kept to her own feet well, moving slowly but stronger than before. Wanda held her hand and kept her other arm around Natasha’s waist, keeping quiet the whole way. Natasha sat down on the bed first, gently pushing herself back on the edge of the pillows. “I can’t wait until this is over.”

“It’s only been a day,” Wanda corrected, her red power dancing across the sheets and pillows to fix them upright and flat. Natasha tried not to flinch as the power slipped past her. Wanda bit her lip. “I won’t hurt you.” Natasha just looked at her. She wasn’t sure if she could believe that or not. Wanda had every reason to fight her if she wanted. “Let me get you some water,” Wanda said, interrupting Natasha’s thoughts.

She turned away back to the bathroom. Natasha leaned over, turning on the lamp from the nightstand. “Did I make a ruckus?” Natasha called after her. “Wake you?”

Natasha could image Wanda shrugging in the bathroom. “I… I couldn't sleep, anyway.”

Natasha nodded, glancing down at her lap. They weren’t that different, really. They both suffered with nightmares of guilt and horror that never seemed to be erased. Natasha and Steve had helped Wanda many times with the nightmares after she first joined the Avengers. She was broken with trauma and it manifested itself the worse in her sleep. Natasha could imagine what they were like now since she’d been imprisoned. Shoved behind bars again. And put there by the very people she swore to protect. 

Wanda came back into the bedroom with a glass of water and a few tissues. She sat on the edge of the bed, handing both to Natasha. Natasha wiped at her mouth with the one tissue, laying the others to the side, and took a few hasty gulps from the water. Wanda watched her the entire time. Natasha finally sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard. “If I could go back a week ago, I would. I would change all of this. I would never have let Ross have such a hand on us. I never would’ve signed those papers.”

Wanda crossed her legs onto the bed, laying her forearms over her knees. She chewed on her lip as she stared down at the sheets, her long hair falling into her face. Natasha sighed, resting her cup onto her lap. “Wanda, if I had ever known they would’ve put you guys into prison, I never would’ve stood beside them. I was blindsided and for that, I’m so sorry. I was so intent on protecting the Avengers face, I didn’t realize they were already—” She hesitated and looked away, shaking her head.

Wanda was quiet, which Natasha expected her to be. She hardly said much on any given day.

Natasha rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand. She was exhausted. But she still didn’t think she could sleep. The memory of Steve’s words didn’t make her nauseous anymore but it would keep her awake.

Wanda lifted her head. Natasha frowned.

“I attacked you… but not because I blamed you,” she started. She looked at Natasha, exhaustion and grief reflecting off her eyes. “I was terrified. I’ve been behind bars before, Nat. Last time I had had my brother. This time, I felt alone. And when I saw you… I…” She took in a shuddering breath and looked to the window across the room. “I’m so sorry.”

Natasha put the glass of water on the nightstand and leaned forward. “Wanda, don’t do that. I understand. And I’ve never blamed you. You had every right to believe you needed to protect yourself.”

“I almost killed you,” Wanda croaked, eyeing the bruises on Natasha’s neck.

“Yeah… but who here didn’t almost kill _someone_ in the last week?” Natasha chuckled but she didn’t see any hits of amusement deep in Wanda’s eyes. “Wanda.” She shouldn’t have done it, but she did. She moved across the bed, to grip Wanda’s hand, ignoring the tugging and stinging of stitches. “We both made mistakes. But there’s always a chance and time to make up for it.” She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “At least that’s what Clint and Steve would say.”

Wanda finally chuckled and rubbed a hand against her eye. “Yeah… Maybe we should take their advice once in awhile.”

Natasha smirked. “I bet they’d appreciate that.”

Wanda sighed and nodded. “…Thank you.” Natasha put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Wanda didn’t even hesitate before tugging Natasha’s into a hug. Natasha didn’t even feel the pain as she returned the hug, patting Wanda’s back.

A knock on the door separated them and Wanda smiled, wiping tears away. “Come in,” Natasha called, pushing herself back to the pillows and reaching for her water glass.

Sam poked his head inside. He looked a bit confused to see Wanda but a smile quickly took over that look. “Thought maybe you couldn’t sleep either.” He lifted a deck of cards in the air. “Go Fish, anyone?”

“As long as you bring snacks,” Natasha said, but she was already pulling pillows away to make room for him.

“Did you really think I’d let you down?” Sam said, walking in with a bag of pretzels and a pack of chewing gum. He jumped up on the bed, handing Wanda the pretzels and throwing the pack of gum to Natasha. They got comfortable; Sam dishing out the cards, Wanda ripping open the pretzels and Natasha unwrapping the gum. Sam sat crosslegged as he gave each person seven cards. “So… heavy stuff this evening.”

Wanda nodded and Natasha shrugged her shoulder.

“Wonder what it’s gonna be like… being on the run,” he said, settling the rest of the cards on the sheets. The pond. They would have to fish for cards if they couldn’t get their partners’s.

Natasha slipped the gum into her mouth, crumpling the wrapping in her fist. “You’ll do fine. Don’t worry about it.” Sam and Wanda both glanced at her, nervously. She was glad when neither of them asked about her not going along. She didn’t need to explain again that evening.

She wasn’t particularly fond of Sam’s next question, though: “Do any of you guys think Tony would sell us out?” He looked from Wanda to Natasha. Natasha glanced at Wanda and back at Sam. Wanda just watched Natasha, a pretzel hanging in between her fingers.

Natasha shook her head. “I think Nick’s right. We’re family to Tony. I don’t think he would risk anymore just to please his ego.” She winced at her own words. She had become so distant to Tony’s motives, she’d forgotten how he must have been feeling. Ever since both of them had signed the Accords, she could see the conflict in his position, no matter how he tried to hide it. He hadn’t wanted the Avengers to split. He had fought so hard to make sure they stayed together. This was all personal to him. She believed he wouldn’t give them away.

“I heard about Rhodes,” Sam suddenly said.

Natasha’s eyes found his before falling lazily on the sheets. Rhodey. She hoped he was fine. Maybe the doctors had found something more. Maybe his condition wasn’t as bad as it had been when she left. “Some form of paralysis, Tony had said. But things could’ve changed since last I was there.”

“Vision hit him,” Wanda added.

Natasha nodded. “He was trying to hit Sam… Sam’s quicker than we thought.” She smiled but Sam frowned, looking away. Rhodey was a friend. Natasha had hoped only a few bruises and limping would come from the fight in Lepzig. But Rhodey might not be able to walk again. No Accords or fighting was worth that.

Natasha leaned forward, picking up her deck of cards. “He’ll be fine. Vision will be fine.” Sam was still but Wanda nodded. Natasha knew it wasn’t enough but she hoped they would find some comfort from her words. She finally chuckled. “How about this game? You wanna start, Sam?”

His face lifted and he nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” He looked down at his cards. “Any sevens, Nat?” She smirked and handed him two of her cards. Sam then asked for any sevens from Wanda but she shook her head, looking a bit proud. Sam dished for a card from the pond. He didn’t get what he wished for and relaxed back while Wanda asked Natasha for twos. Natasha gave her the only two she had and Wanda asked Sam for fives. He didn’t have any and Wanda had to fish for another card. It was Natasha’s turn next. It was a kid’s game, really, but it was fun and it would pass the time for the three people who couldn’t sleep.

After a few rounds, when Sam was digging his hand into the pretzel bag, he threw the question in the air, “Has anyone heard from Sharon Carter? Queens, Nat?”

Natasha frowned and shook her head to both the question and the request of cards. He turned to Wanda. She didn’t have any queens either. “Sharon Carter?” Natasha repeated.

“Well, I ask because she did help us with our suits. She would be on the run too, wouldn’t she?” He fished for another card. “I heard you helped?”

Natasha nodded, recalling the blonde sneaking off with the suits in Germany. She looked ready to fight to the death when Natasha caught her. Natasha kinda liked it. She didn’t really make good excuses as to where and why she was taking them. Natasha guessed Steve had either contacted her or more likely she had contacted Steve. She was Peggy Carter’s niece, after all. Steve would likely always find an ally in her. Natasha had let her go.

“She was FBI. I’m sure she knows how to take care of herself,” Natasha said, handing her last two aces to Wanda who grinned when she placed her four pair on the bed. She had more pairs than anyone and Natasha couldn’t help smiling about her victory.

“Hope so,” Sam said, shoving Wanda’s shoulder, playfully.

Natasha smiled at him. “You got something for Carter, Sam?”

Sam snorted and then grinned, waving a hand in Natasha’s direction. “No, no, no, no. It certainly wasn’t me who kissed that girl in front of all my buddies. I’m smarter than that,” he said with a giddy chuckle.

Wanda and Natasha exchanged confused looks.

_Kiss?_

Wanda leaned forward. “Wait, who kissed?”

Sam looked up from his cards, a mischievous look in his eye. “Well, just a captain we all know and love.” Natasha frowned, lifting her head higher. Wanda’s mouth formed into a small o. “Yep,” Sam said, nodding at their expressions. “Our beloved Captain. I didn’t know he had the guts. You should be proud, Natasha.”

Natasha’s brain put the puzzle pieces together. Steve and Sharon. Of course. Natasha had always pushed him in the path of other women. She wanted him happy. And Sharon Carter had always seemed like such a perfect match for him. Peggy Carter’s niece and all.

And he had kissed her? Steve Rogers didn’t just kiss anybody. She had never seen him make a move, sincere or inappropriate, on any woman. A kiss was a big deal.

“He kissed her?” Wanda asked again. 

Sam nodded at her. “Flat on the mouth.” He sounded as proud as if Steve was his child. “Nat? Hey, Nat?”

Natasha lifted her eyes from her cards to stare at him. She had been taking in the new information, connecting all the dots— She frowned at him.

“It’s your turn?” he asked, nodding towards her cards.

 _Oh._ Natasha raised her eyes, annoyed with herself. “Any nines?”

“You already asked me that earlier?”

 _Crap_.

“Well, you could’ve gotten one the last time you fished,” she said, relieved how quick her answer came out. “Any nines?”

Sam chuckled. “No.”

She fished for a card from the pond. A queen. Hadn’t Sam asked for them earlier? She had the last piece from him making a pair… Natasha smiled at him. “Your turn, buddy.”

He chuckled but she saw a hint of a frown. “Hey, I thought you’d be happier about this news. You’re always trying to match him up with some woman. Tens, Wanda?”

Yeah, she was always doing that. When they had worked at S.H.I.E.L.D., any woman that talked to Steve or even walked by him would be on the list Natasha would tease him about. Alicia. Evelyn. Caroline. Whitney. Kirstin. He could’ve taken any of them out for a date. It wouldn't have hurt him to even call them up. But he had never made a move. Natasha always expected it was because he was shy. But there had always been another reason.

 _Waiting for the right partner_ , he had said once. She had been confused but she supposed she understood now. He wouldn’t do flighty dating. He would wait for that perfect person.

And Sharon Carter? Dang, Sharon was a keeper. Ever since she was posing as a nurse living next to Steve in Washington, Natasha could see the little spark between them; similar tastes, the shy smiles, the compliments. The sickening, cute _thing_ that could become a bigger _thing_. After all, Sharon was a Carter. Steve would stick to them like glue if he could. And Natasha knew that. She had known that… well, when everything had happened. When they had taken down S.H.I.E.L.D., when they had teamed up for the Avengers again, when she had fallen for Bruce Banner, when she had become a team leader with him. Their time together had been good. It had been complicated. It had been messy. It had been peaceful. It had been _theirs_.

But what was wrong with her, anyway? She had never let their relationship go any farther than a friendship. And even that had been hard to relax in. It would change too much and complicate it even worse if they actually relaxed further. And then the Accords happened. And apparently Sharon happened too.

And Natasha would leave with Nick. Steve should contact Sharon, then. She should go with them.

End of story.

Natasha shook her head, releasing a chuckle. “It took Rogers long enough.”

Wanda grinned and Sam nodded, agreeing. “Alright, alright, let’s continue the game,” Sam said, curling his fingers in and out, indication them to hurry already. “Wanda just went. Nat’s turn.”

Natasha hadn’t even heard Wanda ask Sam for a card. She would still win the game. But Natasha did have a victory in her back pocket. “Sam, any queens?”

He groaned. “What the heck?” He gave her his three cards and she dropped them on the bed along with her own card, making her pair.

One victory. It wasn’t worth anything.

_____________________

It was raining the next day. Humid air made her hair frizzy and tangled but she didn’t move to the safety of the house. The team could only really laze around the house. Natasha was sick of it. If she had it her way, she would’ve gotten on her motorbike and left for the nearest town and relaxed in some bar with the strongest whiskey.

But walking was about all she could do. And she did it _so_ slowly.

She had managed to sneak out of the house and onto the back porch so she considered that a win. Anything was a win. The fact that they had been there for two days without being caught, the fact that Fury was already gathering covert location sights and plans for the team, the fact Natasha had avoided Steve as much as she could in the small farm house and actually succeeded. Yeah. A total win.

“Steve told me, you know.” Clint’s voice didn’t even startle her. She kept her elbows on her knees and jaw resting in her hands, staring out into the wet yard and noticing each mud puddle forming near the garden. The kids would jump in that, eventually. She couldn’t help smiling at her memories of jumping into puddles with the Barton children. They always had more fun playing in the creek about a mile in the woods, though. If she was well enough to make the trek before she left with Nick, she would do go down there with them.

Clint eased into a crouch beside her. “You know it’s stupid right?” Natasha didn’t look at him. She didn’t have to act confused or annoyed. She understood what he was saying. And of course Steve told him everything. Natasha couldn’t speak for herself, apparently. “This whole reason for not coming with us. You and Wanda are friends again. Everyone always thought you’d come.”

Natasha nodded against her hands. A bird flew past her view, swooping down in the grass for a millisecond, likely seeking out a worm.

“So what’s going on?” he asked, dropping down on his behind next to her. He let a leg out onto the steps leading to the wet grass. Raindrops landed on his boot. “Oh, come on,” he said, chuckling. “You think I can’t guess when something’s bothering you?”

“You only guess,” she said, her eyes darting toward him but her fingers were in the way; neither of them caught eyes.

“Alright, let me guess,” he said, cocking his head. She contained a smirk. He let out three fingers, waving them in her vision. “It could only be three things. One: you still feel guilty about the Accords and the RAFT. Two: you’re actually considering it was stupid taking up Fury’s offer and you wanna change your mind. Or three: you have unspoken feelings for Rogers and it’s becoming too much.”

Natasha scoffed. “Where did you come up with the stupid one?”

“The one about Rogers? I have eyes, you know, Romanoff.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“So it is about Rogers,” Clint said with a tone in his voice as if he had just solved the greatest mystery of all time. Natasha’s rolled her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she deadpanned.

“Natasha, I just figured out what’s bothering you. You can be honest for the rest,” he said, kicking his shoulder against hers. She tugged her shoulder away. “Oh, come on.”

“He already has someone.”

“Oh, so you’re jealous.”

“No, just correcting your stupid assumption that I could have feelings for him.”

Clint scoffed. “You might be a trained spy and expert liar but you’re not fooling me.” Natasha didn’t say anything. Clint sighed, throwing a leaf out into the rain. “Who is she?”

“Sharon Carter. You don’t know her.”

“Heard about her. Peggy Carter’s niece?”

“Practically family to Steve.”

He went quiet like he was thinking about it. And then he knocked his knuckles against her own. “Hey, Nat. Nat. Look at me.” She hated to do it but she finally turned, her head still in her hands. He shrugged his shoulders. “Cap’s never been the guy to rush into things. I won’t believe it until I see it. And right now?” He turned, jabbing a thumb toward the house. “I don’t see her in there. I haven’t even heard her mentioned until now.”

Natasha sighed and turned back to the yard. “He kissed her, Clint.”

“And that makes it official?”

“For Steve Rogers, yes.”

“Might’ve surprised you this one time.”

“Unlikely.”

It was quiet for a moment before he nudged his shoulder against her. “But do you have feelings for him?”

Her eyes dropped to her shoes. She chewed on her lower lip. Oh, where to even begin? She couldn’t answer it easily. There was no ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. She didn’t _know_. She could hardly know what her heart or her mind were saying. Their voices were all muddled together and creating traffic. Her memories of his little touches over the years, his kind words, his eyes? Those all came straight from her heart. And her mind would fight that with the memories of her turning away, Bruce Banner, Sharon Carter. Now, there was only one thing clearly present in her mind: _he had kissed Sharon Carter_. And the words from her heart combating that? _He wanted you to come with him_. Everything in between was too crazy to dig into.

So she dropped her head, digging her fingers through the hair at her scalp. “I don’t know.”

Clint sighed beside her and then she felt his hand on her back. He rubbed up and down, almost swaying her a few times. “Oh, it’s alright, kid.” She laughed when he said it and he chuckled. She couldn’t blame him for that. She did sound like a confused teenager. He stopped his rubbing for a second. “You scared?”

Natalia Alinovna Romanova didn’t get scared.

But Natasha Romanoff had been _terrified_ more times than she cared to admit in this week alone.

So maybe she was.

“What do you mean?” she asked, instead.

“Scared you actually do love him? Scared of losing him? Scared of admitting all this to him?”

Natasha pulled her hands away and stared at him. He looked completely serious. “When did you become such an expert on the human heart?”

“Comes with being married to an expert.” He smirked. Natasha looked away, nodding. Laura had noticed Natasha and Bruce. Clint hadn’t believed in it until Natasha had to move on when Bruce went missing. Natasha supposed he still didn’t really believe they had a deep understanding. Natasha was starting to wonder the same nowadays. Clint rubbed her back again. “So what is it?”

“It might just sound like I’m jealous,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder. Clint laughed and squeezed her shoulder and even she couldn’t hold back the smile. When he got quiet again, she sighed and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now, Clint. We’ll move forward. We always do. We’re fugitives now. We’ll go our separate ways. It will all be for the better.”

Clint watched her for a long moment. “You know it’s not too late to change your mind.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if he was talking about Steve or about traveling with Fury. Either way, she knew his words weren’t true. “No… it is too late.”

______________________

_Germany. Days before_

_Are you saying you’ll arrest me?_ When he had asked the question, he wanted to kick himself. He couldn’t believe he was thinking it a possibility. But the tone in her voice had made him propose the question. Now, he was wondering if he should ask it again. Would she say the same thing she had said that morning? _No_. Along with her exasperated chuckle?

Bucky Barnes was slumped across the room, his metal arm attached to a wrecked car's magnet. Something only Sam Wilson could’ve been able to find. They had crashed in some abandoned building, a warm and musty place. Steve supposed tramps would stay here when needed. But their building wasn’t far away from Ross’s base. He could hear helicopters nearby. After attaching Bucky to the magnet, Sam had searched the building, covering open windows with whatever he could find before coming back to watch Bucky. Steve knew Sam didn’t trust him at all. But he was still by Steve’s side, helping. And being his voice of wisdom. Sam could always make Steve hesitate and think for a second. What had he said once? _I do what he does, just slower_.

At least Bucky was awake and he was himself again. _Your mother’s name was Sarah._ So Steve’s hoping and praying had been rewarded. His friend was back. His friend was not the killer everyone supposed him to be. He had been used. And Steve was going to do everything to keep him safe and away from the hands of Ross and anyone else.

If it were only that easy. Those very people were now after Steve. He had run away from captivity just an hour before. Tony and Natasha would likely be forced to go after him. It was their job, now. Only now, he was almost hoping they would find him so he could tell them all he knew. More Winter Soldiers were out there. The psych doctor was traveling to Russia and very likely getting a plane as Steve thought about it. Someone needed to know. Natasha. But would she arrest him if she found him?

“This would’ve been a lot easier a week ago,” Sam mumbled, folding his arms over his chest as he came to stand beside Steve, his back to Bucky. Steve kept his eyes to the wall, thinking hard. He didn’t have many choices. And the more and more he thought of them, the less they became options. There were too many risks.

“If we call Tony—” Steve started.

“The Accords won’t let him help,” Sam said, shaking his head. “What about Natasha?”

Steve caught his friend’s eye and clenched his jaw. “Natasha’s already made it clear where she stands.”

“But so did Tony and you want to contact him,” Sam reasoned. Steve looked away and breathed in deep. Sam turned to Steve, eyeing Bucky for a second. “Look, I know she signed the Accords as much as Tony. But she’s different.”

Steve eyed him, wearily. He wanted to believe it. He might believe it deep down. But if he wasn’t going to contact Tony because of the Accords, he couldn’t very well contact her. “She trusts you, Steve. She’ll listen. She won’t abide to the Accords.”

“I don’t want to put her in that position,” Steve said, folding his own arms over his chest. “She’d hate me to.” He looked back at Sam. “So we’re on our own.”

Sam sighed and looked into the hallway behind Steve. “Maybe not.” Steve frowned and Sam cocked his head back to him. “I might know a guy. Well… I’ll have to dig a little.” Steve nodded, trusting him. He had to trust him. It was just them. They had to stop the doctor getting to Russia. But he knew they would also have to fight. Maybe even fight their friends. Sam turned to Bucky. “Alright, give us a minute and we’ll be on our way.”

“Steve, we can’t let him get to Russia before us,” Bucky warned, leaned forward as much as he could against the magnet.

Steve nodded, putting a hand out to him for him to wait. He turned back to Sam. “Let’s hurry then.”

Sam looked at Bucky once before walking into the hallway, pulling his phone out. Steve watched him go before looking back at Bucky. Bucky chuckled and weakly pointed to the hallway. “He doesn’t like me much, does he?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “He’s just…” _He’s exhausted. He doesn’t trust you. You did punch him too many times for him to be comfortable_.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, as if he read Steve’s thoughts, and looked down the room. “Guess you wouldn’t have any food?” Steve shook his head, sadly. He hadn’t even thought about Bucky being hungry. But he had thought about him being pinned down like a criminal. He let his arms loose and came to stand beside the magnet.

“We’ll pick something up on the way,” Steve promised, grabbing his metal hand. Bucky squeezed his fingers against his hand and Steve pulled, ripping his arm away from the suction of the magnet. Bucky sighed, grateful, and shook his arm a bit. Steve gave him his hand again and Bucky took it so Steve could pull him to his feet. “Good to have you back, Buck.”

Bucky lifted his head and smiled. “Thanks, Punk.”

Steve pulled his arm forward until he pulled him into a hug. Bucky slapped his human hand against Steve’s back and Steve squeezed his shoulder. When they pulled apart, Bucky looked serious again. “We’re on our own? No backup?”

Steve sighed. “Sam’s working on it. It’s just that most of our allies are now… well…”

Bucky nodded, understanding. Steve put his hands on his hips and looked down at his boots. He wanted to call Natasha. He wanted to believe she, out of anyone, would listen. She may even help. She had told him she trusted him that morning. But she had also said she didn’t trust Bucky. How could she believe this? And the Accords? She had to stand to that.

Steve lifted his head just to see Bucky watching him, carefully. Steve didn’t feel tense under his gaze. He didn’t feel worried Bucky would attack him at any moment. He only saw his friend. His friend who fought with him from “the playground to the battlefield". The thought made him think about the museum. And then Peggy and then…

He frowned and looked around the room. He couldn’t call Natasha. But…

“Buck,” he said, taking a step back. “Give me a minute, hmm? I might have another ally.” He ran into the hall, finding Sam staring at his phone. “Sam,” he said, jogging up beside him. “Sharon Carter. She helped us get to Vienna. She’s works under Everett. She gave us the receipt for our suits. You remember “bird costume”? She might be able to get them to us.”

Sam lifted his head and pointed his phone back to Steve. Two missed calls from Natasha reflected off the screen. One from 11:30. Another just fifteen minutes ago. He could imagine she had been trying to contact his phone but he had left it with this leather jacket in the elevator. What could she want to say? She’d likely try to convince them to come back. Or maybe…

Steve ran a hand through his hair. Again, the urge to call her tugged at him. He looked back to Sam who looked prepared to throw all reason out the window and call her back. Steve clenched his jaw and stared back. They sat for a moment and Steve sensed Bucky lean against the doorway into the hall. Sam glanced back at him and then back to Steve. He shook his head and dropped his arm. “We can’t call her. They’d probably track my phone through the call.”

Steve sighed and dropped his head. They had no choice. He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sharon Carter. I know she can get us our suits. It’s worth a shot.”

Sam nodded and looked back to his phone. “Give me her number.”

________________

The way Natasha was pushing herself and moving around as if she wasn’t hurt was unbelievable. Steve knew she was a good actress, though. She would lie as long as she could. And avoid him in the process, it seemed.

Well, he wasn’t exactly going up to her either.

He didn’t know why, either. They hadn't really fought. They had said things that couldn’t be unsaid, yes. But he hadn’t left the room angry. Confused and disappointed, maybe. He felt like something else had come between them, though. But he wasn’t sure what it was.

He left it, though. Natasha didn’t like to be pushed around and he wasn’t going to try to get her to talk to him. So after dinner, he went with Laura to wash the dishes, leaving everyone in the living room. He didn’t mind getting away and talking small talk with Laura. He liked Laura. She was exactly what Natasha often described her as: “a mom friend”. She listened and asked the right questions and he was comfortable around her. He could always visit the farm more often just to talk with her.

They were just talking about the building of the farm house when Nick walked in the room. “Got a minute, Rogers?” he asked, sliding his hand along the countertop.

Steve turned, pulling his hands out of the dish water. Laura looked to them both. “Should I take a step out?”

Nick shook his head but Steve answered. “No, no, you can stay.” She smiled and went back to washing the dishes. Steve reached across the counter to snatch up a towel, rubbing his wet hands against it. “Well?”

“Word is you had an ally this last week. A Sharon Carter?”

Steve frowned. It was the second time he’d heard her name in the last two days. And he felt horrible for never thinking about her unless her name was mentioned. He just had a thousand other things to think about. But her name did seem to be floating around the house. And by the look of Fury’s face, it seemed like he knew what had gone on between she and Steve. If Sam was throwing gossip around with everyone, he was going to kill— Steve nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah, she helped us get to Vienna, brought us our suits—”

“Do you know where she is?”

Steve shook his head. “No. She knew what would happen when she helped us. I suppose she was going to drop off the radar after.”

“Well, she could be in as much danger as you,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. Steve nodded, glancing at Laura. He was putting a lot of people in danger nowadays. “I’ve been asked to contact her and get her on the team. She was once a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She would know how to help and even the move the team safely.”

Steve put a hand out to him. “Who asked you you to contact her?”

“I’m not revealing any unnecessary names,” Fury said, nonchalantly. “You want me to dig?”

Steve frowned, staring at the floors. Someone wanted to Nick to contact her? It had to have been Sam. Or maybe Fury had gotten a message from T’Challa and this was all just Bucky teasing him from across the world. He shook his head, looking back to Fury. “Make sure she’s okay. But she doesn't have to come with us. No one knew about her involvement. She has a chance. She can make a new start without us.”

Steve moved back to the sink, plucking up a glass dish to dry with his towel. “Good, then,” Nick said, quietly slapping his hand on the counter. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.” Steve nodded to Nick as he moved out of the kitchen, looking down at his phone.

Steve and Laura moved back into their work and conversation until they finished all of the dishes. Steve helped her put things away, though she had to help him find all the places pots and pans went. Laura knew she didn’t have to cook them large dinners since the dishes piled high afterwards. Anyone was happy with a pizza but she was always happy to cook and no one fought her.

Once they were done, Clint came into the room. “Rogers, just the man.” Steve became alert, walking up the archer. “Here,” he said, dropping two white pills in Steve’s palm. “Maria says Natasha needs to take that before bed. Make sure she gets it.” He walked around Steve and toward the refrigerator.

“Uh, Clint.” Steve turned to follow him, dread circling in his stomach. “I—”

Clint looked back as he opened the fridge door. “What?”

Steve glanced to Laura and then back to Clint. “I don’t even know where she is.”

“Oh, well I do,” Clint said, ducking his head into the fridge. He came back up with a water bottle which he threw to Steve. Steve caught it easily, his fingers curling around it. “She’s in the barn thataway,” he said, pointing to the back kitchen door which must have led to the barn. “Make sure she gets those pills and drinks some water. I would do it but I gotta put the kids to bed.”

Steve’s jaw dropped but he quickly recovered before Clint could see him. Okay. _Okay_. Natasha needed her meds. He had given them to her before. This would be no different. And if she really was mad at him as he thought, she would snatch the pills away and that would be that. He would go back to the house. But it would hurt.

And it would hurt mostly because he didn’t know what the hell was going on!

He didn’t argue with Clint, though, and walked out the kitchen door and closed it behind him. He stayed on the steps for a minute, smelling in the humid air. He heard laughter on the front porch. Some of the guys had moved out for beer and some card game. He was glad they were enjoying the time they had left on the farm.

He stepped out into the grass, finding the little path that led to the barn from the house. The dusk evening brought colors or golds and purples into the deep blue sky above him and a fog was starting to land on the grass. He looked back at the house once before pushing forward to the barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment your thoughts! they are so appreciated!! hope you're having an awesome day!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's taken me a bit to add a chapter! i was writing so diligently and with so much feelings-- and then I suddenly got writer's block and lost all motivation. It was so annoying. But I really want this chapter to be good and complete so I'm glad I waited a bit until I was satisfied with my work. Anyway, here is the chapter <3<3<3

_Clint Barton’s Farm_

Natasha had found solace in the barn more times than she could count. It always smelled of old wood and hay, with just a small hint of gasoline. It was warm inside, almost stuffy, but it was welcoming. It was always mostly dark, unless the doors and windows were opened, so Clint had put up a few hanging lights that bathed the walls with a warm glow in the evenings.

She sat on a squared bale of hay, leaning her back against another taller one and swirling a strand of it across the top of her thigh. She was thankful for the black slacks and cream colored loose tee Maria had found for her from the Quinjet. The Avengers always carried extra clothing in there for emergencies. She had even found a pair of boots Natasha must’ve stashed away some time ago. Natasha was glad she didn’t have to keep borrowing Laura’s clothing.

Like everything else, it seemed, Natasha wasn’t sure why she was looking for the comfort of the barn. It likely had to do with the fact that the team would be heading off in the next day or two. Nick would stay to see them off but he would be on his way next. She had had too many eyes on her that evening when they discussed their plans. Wanda looked confused when Natasha didn’t add her two bits, and Sam looked ready to say something, _anything_ , to her. Steve didn’t even look at her. He had become resolved, it seemed.

And it shouldn’t have bothered her.

She couldn’t stop remembering the conversation she had had with Clint that morning. She had been honest but not completely forthcoming. They both knew it. But it didn’t matter. She had to keep telling herself that.

She heard the barn door creak open and she tensed. It could be anyone and she wouldn’t be comfortable. Clint? He would keep trying to get her to confess _anything_. Nick? He would just be there to remind her she was off to do tedious and long work. Sam? He would probably try to convince her to come with them. And Steve? Well, she couldn’t imagine what more they had to say to each other.

Whoever was in the barn would have to make the trek around the tractor and then through the gardening tools to get to her room of hay. Maybe they would never find her. No so luck. She turned when she sensed someone coming through doorway. And then her muscles relaxed and she took in a breath. Cooper and Lila Barton ran through the room, sneaking against the wall. Natasha frowned at them, disapprovingly. “What are you up to?”

“It’s almost bed time!” Lila admitted, shamelessly. Copper slapped her arm but kept his head close to the door, listening for anymore intruders. Natasha chuckled and shook her head, looking back to the hay. She wasn’t going to squeal on them. “Daddy says he’ll have to leave,” Lila suddenly said into the quiet. Natasha looked back to her and forced a smile. Lila bit her lip. “Will you leave too?”

Natasha nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Can we go to the creek before you go?” Cooper asked, finally pulling away from the doorway.

Natasha smirked. “Definitely.”

The barn door creaked open again and shouts from the house’s porch floating from the wind alerted all three of them. Cooper stuck his back against the wall again, poking his head ever so close to assess their newcomer. Lila held in a gasp by covering her mouth and Natasha just listened carefully. The heavy but careful footfalls and movements were all she needed to verify her suspicions of who is was. “Nat, you in here?” Steve called.

Lila gripped her brother’s sleeve and he swatted her away, his elbow kicking against the wall. Lila couldn’t stifle a giggle when Cooper rubbed at his sore elbow. Natasha knew that it had given them away. She leaned forward as much as she could, whispering to them, “One thing you have to know about Captain America…” She lifted her head back to the doorway just as Steve stepped in. She put on a disappointed face. “His hearing is impeccable.”

Cooper groaned when Steve looked down at them but Lila grinned up at him. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve chuckled and Natasha could see Lila’s cheeks warm a bit at his voice. She couldn’t help smiling. Lila wasn’t the only little girl who would have a crush for Steve Rogers. Especially, when his hair was a bit messy and his grey t-shirt was a just bit tight and—

Natasha turned away when she caught herself _looking_.

“You guys hiding from someone?” Steve asked, swinging a water bottle in one hand.

“Dad,” Cooper answered when Lila wouldn’t. She was just staring at Steve.

“Oh, yeah. He did say something about getting you guys in bed,” Steve said, looking over this shoulder into the rest of the barn.

“Don’t give us away,” Lila pleaded, finally looking back to Cooper and then to Steve.

“I don’t want to get in trouble with Clint,” Steve said, cocking an eyebrow. “Won’t he be worried about you?” Cooper shook his head. Lila seemed to contemplate the words.

“Come on, you two,” Natasha finally said. “Steve’s right. Your dad’s gonna find you eventually. And Steve’s definitely not going to lie for you. He’s always honest, you know.” She looked at Steve for a second. “Don’t worry. We’ll still be here tomorrow. We’ll go to the creek, okay?” The kids seemed to listen and Lila nodded, willingly. “Go on, then.” Lila jumped back to her feet, hugging Natasha tight before going to hug Steve’s leg too. Steve looked to Natasha, smiling and she couldn’t help smiling back. Cooper gave them both a high-five before challenging Lila to a race back to the house.

When their thumping footsteps and shouts left the barn, Steve looked back to her. “Hey,” he said, stepping up to her. He handed her the bottled water and then in the other fist revealed two white pills. “Maria says you need to take this before bed?”

Natasha nodded, taking the water from him. “Thanks.” She took the pills from his palm, willing her fingers not to be against his hand for too long. She uncapped the water and chucked one pill in her mouth, keeping her eyes to the wall ahead.

She tensed when he sighed and sat down beside her. She kept her eyes ahead, ignoring the _thump thump_ of her heart. “So, uh…” he started, picking at a piece of hay, “What do you think life will be like in Fury’s projects? Will it be anything like the old S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Natasha drank down her pill, okay with the conversation being about work. It was always easier to talk about that with him. She shook her head when she finished drinking. “I can’t imagine so. It will… be an adventure, if nothing else, though.”

“And us?” he asked, twirling the strand of hay between his fingers. He looked at her before she could say anything. “It will be an adventure for us too, I guess.”

“You’ll do fine,” she reassured for maybe the fifteenth time that day. “You won’t be alone. You’ll still be busy. You’ll just have to stay hidden.” She smiled at him. “You know how to disappear in a crowd. I hope I’ve taught you that much.”

He chuckled, keeping his eyes to the ground. “You remember all those training dates we did?” Natasha groaned but grinned. It didn’t matter that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been dismantled, she and Steve still did their training on the side of being Avengers. And that included going out and about the public, memorizing the energy of crowds, finding each security camera, disappearing in crowds, making quick decisions under pressure, even disguising as a couple. And also getting the occasional ice cream cone and late McDonalds dinner.

“It’s been a while since we did those,” she said, drinking down the last pill. She shook her head, remembering. “We should do it again one day.”

“And give you an opportune time to tease me about my kissing? No thank you.”

Natasha turned to him, shocked. “I did not make fun of you. I thought you were very good.” He laughed, clearly not believing her. She shoved him in the shoulder. “I just wanted to know how much practice you had.” She remembered saying those words years ago. She could still smell the stolen truck they had been driving in. His defensive voice about his kissing was the same as it’d been back then.

“I still don’t think you need practice,” he said, chucking the hay to the ground.

Natasha stopped for a second, watching him carefully. _Really?_ “Huh, uh,” she muttered, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Well, I don’t know what you think… but I am positive you have a certain blonde head over heels for you.” If she was smart, she would’ve kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure why but she wanted a reaction from him.

Instead of an embarrassed chuckle or pink of the cheeks, Steve frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

She frowned back at him and shifted around to look at him, fully. She’d avoided this conversation. She had been avoiding him the entire day. But she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to hear from him. She wanted to see his expressions he could never hide. She tucked a leg up on the bale of hay, her knee squeezing against his thigh. “When were you going to tell me about Sharon Carter? Were you gonna keep it a secret?”

He took in a deep breath and shook his head. “How did you find out about that?”

So it did happen. She always believed Sam was telling the truth. There was too much mischief in his eyes and details for it not to have been true. But hearing it from Steve was different. Something squeezed in her chest. “So you were going to keep it a secret.”

“Sam told you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He’s just happy for you,” she said, frowning. With the way Sam had talked about it, Steve had done it, willingly, happily. Why did he seem so bummed out that she knew? “I’m happy for you, too,” she lied. Steve looked at her but she glanced down at her boot. “Couldn’t have picked a better girl. She’s your type. She’s cute, sensitive, quiet—”

“Natasha, it was just a kiss,” he blurted out.

She scoffed. “When does Captain America just kiss a girl?”

“We kissed!” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Kissing could mean anything nowadays. It’s not uncommon.”

Something summersaulted in Natasha’s stomach. She was a trained killer and spy. She knew how to woo who she wanted and get exactly what she wanted and kissing happened all the time with that game. No, it wasn’t uncommon. But it sure as hell was uncommon for Steve Rogers. They both knew it. She wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. Also, using _their_ kiss as some stupid excuse was the worst move he could’ve made. Their kiss hadn’t been a silly one, it hadn’t meant anything. It had been an escape. They had bene running for their lives.

“I recall a reason for that,” she snapped.

“So you don’t think I had a reason? I’m free to kiss who I like, Romanoff.” Natasha looked away from him and he huffed. “And maybe it wasn’t for a reason the Black Widow would use. People kiss all the time, you know.”

“Don’t try to act like everyone else, Rogers. It doesn’t suit you,” she said, glaring up at him.

Something flickered in his eye and he turned away. Natasha took in a deep breath. She knew that look. He was taking all her words to heart. They had hurt. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe she had been too rough with him.

“You know if I thought you’d be jealous, I wouldn’t have kissed her,” he said, clenching his jaw. When he looked back to her, his eyes were hard, his face steeled.

Natasha glowered at him. She couldn’t even make sense of his sentence before indignation flared in her chest. “I am _not_ jealous.” She ignored the question in her brain asking what she was, then? If not jealous… sad? Hurt? Whatever it was, Natasha was starting to wish he had never found her in the barn and she had never brought up Carter.

Steve stared at her for a moment. “Liar,” he said, nonchalantly.

Anger simmering, Natasha stood up, pointing a finger in his face. “You really think you know when I’m lying?”

“I think I’ve spent enough time with you to know—”

“And I’ve spent enough time with you to know you don’t kiss a woman, senselessly. I know you’re better than that! You’re better than kissing someone you don’t know! You’re better than sitting up here and making excuses! You’re better!” She took a step back, sticking her fingers into her scalp. Steve frowned up at her before he blinked, leading his focus the wall across from her. Natasha pulled her hair out of her face before scoffing and moving toward the door.

She fled out of the room, breathing in deep and uneven. What had she said?! The lump in her throat was tight and her eyes stung. It was because of the hay. It clogged the air—

“Natasha, Natasha,” Steve called, running after her. She kept walking through the barn, stepping over a shovel. Steve gripped her elbow, twisting her back to face him. She was so close to tugging her arm away and punching him but he talked first. “You told Fury to find Sharon. To come with us?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, tugging her arm away.

“It matters to me,” he said, snatching at her wrist. Natasha pulled away but he was stronger. He frowned at her. “You _did_ do it. Why? Why did you do it?” Natasha stopped and just stared at the ground. It was true. She had told Fury to find Carter. It would’ve saved time for Steve and herself. Steve would have Sharon by his side, he wouldn’t need Natasha. She had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, even better, she was now FBI. She had all the tools. And besides, she was obviously loyal to Steve. Why wouldn’t he want her along?

Natasha curled her hand into a fist. She could fight Steve off if she wanted. She knew just how she could twist his wrist back and break his hand, flip over his shoulder and pull him to the ground before he could blink. But she stopped counting the seconds it would take for his muscles to relax in her head. She instead found herself focusing on the heat from his hand on her skin, his fingers twitching with his strength against her. He wasn’t going to let her go. She wasn’t going to fight him.

“Natasha,” he said, his voice softer, his grip slackening. “Come on. Just tell me.”

Before thinking better of it, Natasha turned to him, slipped her hand out of his and reached up, cupping his face in both her hands. Wearing the high heeled boots had been a good idea after all. Natasha’s eyes grazed over his entire face before she pressed her lips against his.

He tensed but didn’t pull away. Natasha slipped her hands in his hair, turning slightly to make the kiss deeper. She didn't know how long she’d wanted to do this but the only thing going through her mind was how _good_ it felt. His lips were as soft and warm as she’d remembered. The barn became so quiet as if everything had stilled in the moment. And it had gotten so warm. Her heartbeat quickened, quickened.

And then in happened. A small voice in the back of her mind.

_Wrong. Dirty. Cheating. Worthless._

She wanted to stuff it down but it was too late. It was all true.

Just then, to her relief but quick horror, Steve’s hands suddenly came to her hips and he tugged her closer. She was pressed against him and he began leading the kiss now. He leaned forward, making her take a stumble back, but his hands were still there, keeping her close. Natasha kissed him back harder, urgently, determinedly. His fingers slipped against her shirt, sliding against the flesh at her hipbone. The sensation sent shivers up Natasha’s body and she gasped in the kiss.

Her brain screamed at her. _Stop!_

Natasha pulled her hands to his chest and she pushed back, tugging her lips away. It was harder than she thought it’d be. She took in a deep breath when they were no longer touching and though he looked a bit dazed, a smile twitched at his lips. She frowned. “Idiot,” she whispered. She pulled away from him, pushing his hands off her hips and turned away.

_______________

Kissing Sharon had felt new. Almost weird.

Kissing Natasha felt the totally opposite. It was a shock alright, but it didn’t feel confusing. It felt right. Like it was almost normal for her to kiss him. Almost like her lips were always meant to be against his. Electricity pumped in his veins. His heartbeat beat like a drum. He felt warm, _warm_ down to his toes.

He hadn't even processed the idea before his hands were on her hips, pulling her closer. One thought about her wound almost made him hesitate but Natasha hardly reacted to the movement and if anything, just kissed him harder. All seemed fine, perfectly right in the world, until she suddenly flinched against him and pulled away. He didn’t want to end the kiss, surely it was too soon, but he let her move and take in a breath. He was a little breathless, himself. _Adrenaline._ He hadn’t had that with Sharon either.

But when they looked at each other, Natasha suddenly frowned. “Idiot,” she whispered before pulling away from him, kicking his hands off of her. She turned away, as if they had done something horrible. Oh, he had overstepped. He shouldn’t have…

But then he was the one to frown. _She_ had kissed _him_. It had been her first move. How was he the idiot now? He shook his head and went after her, snatching her hand again. “Natasha, wait, wait.” She looked torn when she turned back to him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip. She almost looked ready to cry. He was prepared to hear anything from her. The truth. Instead, the accusation fell from her lips: “Why did you do that?”

Steve was taken aback. _But she had kissed him_ — Steve scowled and let her hand go. “Why did I—? Why did you?”

Natasha groaned and stuffed her hands in her hair. “Whatever. We shouldn’t have done that.”

It went quiet for a moment. Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips, looking anywhere but at her. She was trying to brush it off. As if it’d been mistake. As if they’d ruined something that hadn’t already been tainted by the past weeks; by his foolish kiss with Sharon, by her taking Fury’s offer of work. Kissing wasn’t ruining anything. And he was sick of dodging this any longer. Steve finally looked at her. She stared back. “What, kiss? We shouldn’t have done that?” Natasha just put her hands in her back pockets. He scoffed. “Well, we just did it…” He slowed and lifted his head. “And I don’t regret it.”

Natasha didn’t have anything to say back. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or grateful. A part of him was glad she didn’t make up some lie or excuse. Another part of him wanted her to say she didn’t regret the kiss either. He didn’t get either from her.

Whooping and laughter from the house made Natasha flinch and she looked to the doorway. He followed her gaze. He supposed the others would be looking for them soon enough. He wasn’t stepping out of the barn until this was settled. “I did kiss Sharon,” he admitted. She turned, nodding. He wasn’t making up for it but he was being honest and clear. It was about all he could do. “I regret that. So heavily. It was a mistake.” He shook his head. “One I’ll have to make up for.”

Natasha stared at him for a long moment. And then she forced a sad smirk. “Yeah… big time.” And he wouldn’t just make it up to her or him, but especially Sharon. She didn’t deserve it. Natasha took in a breath. “You can do it on your travels, though.”

Steve shook his head. “I told Fury not to bring her along.”

She frowned, straightening. “What? Why?”

He sighed, his eyes drifting to the sounds from the house porch. “She has a better chance on her own, Nat. No one was really aware of the help she gave me. She can make a new life with no ties to me. I want that for her.”

Natasha nodded, looking down at the floorboards of the barn. She didn’t argue, clearly accepting his reasoning. He had thought hard about it, there was no better reason. But then she shook her head, frowning back at him. “…What will you do, then?”

He pinched his lips together. He knew he was conveying all his feelings on his face when he looked at her. He almost felt like begging towards this point. He took a step towards her. “I guess I was hoping you’d reconsider coming with us.” Natasha winced and looked away, rubbing her face with one hand. “We’re a team, Nat. We stick together. We can’t do this on our own. We all need you more now than ever. You have the most experience of all of us. You can teach us so much, train us. We need you.”

“Yes, but I—”

Her excuse died when he reached out and put his fingers against her lips. She froze but frowned at him, slightly annoyed. He remembered her doing the exact thing to him two nights before on Clint’s porch. He wanted to convince her then as much as she’d convinced him. “Stay with us…” He pulled his hand back, his eyes darting from hers to her lips. “Stay with _me_.”

He watched her swallow. “You know being on the run… after what we just did… this—” She waved a hand between them. “Kiss and everything… that complicates things.”

He nodded. “I can take complicated.”

She frowned and shook her head. “That’s not smart.”

He leaned closer, slipping his hands around her waist. “Tell me _you_ won’t take complicated,” he said, dipping his head down and pressing his forehead against hers. Natasha brought her hands to his forearms, watching him carefully. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t fight back. She was so still and small against him. He could hear their heartbeats falling in rhythm together. Stay. He took the moment to memorize the beautiful features of her face. Her small nose. Plump lips. Green eyes. He couldn’t imagine not having them in his life. “Will you stay?”

She stared up at him, hesitant. He could see the emotions warring on her face, the wheels turn in her head. She wasn’t hiding anything tonight. She licked her lip, just prompting him to look at them again. “You really want me?”

He brought his other hand to her face, pulling some curls behind her ear. “I always have.”

She took in a deep breath, as if taking in his answer. And then a smile lifted at her lips. “Okay… okay, I’ll stay.”

Everything in him seemed to relax. She was ready to go with them. She was willing to take complicated. Was she willing to take him? After everything? He eased closer to her, stopping to look at her for permission “It’s okay,” she said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They watched each other for a second before he leaned in, kissing her again.

He could remember the touches they had shared just the last fews days. The night in her bedroom when Peggy had died. The church in London when she had kissed his forehead. In Germany when he had gripped her hand and asked if she trusted him. When they’d hugged on Clint’s porch, minutes after she’d almost shot him. When she’d rested her head on his shoulder while they stared at the stars. When she’d been shot and he had cupped her face, keeping her looking at him. When she had slid her finger along his face, teasing him about the scruff. When she had held his hand and bled through her bandages. And now, this. _Kissing_.

It had taken them too long to get to this place.

Natasha was chuckling when they pulled away. “You sure you don’t practice, Captain?”

He grinned. “Well, you never know.”

She laughed and then hugged him tight, burying her face in his shoulder. He slightly lifted her off the ground, hugging her back, smelling in her strawberry shampoo, the intoxicating vanilla perfume she always wore. He looked towards the barn door again. “You know we’ll never hear the end of it if everyone finds out about this.”

“Hmm,” Natasha said, rubbing her hands against his shoulders. “Our secret?” His response was a nuzzle against her cheek and she laughed, pulling away from him. When she looked up at him, she sighed. “They’ll be looking for us, though.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead before leaning back. “What now?”

She found his other hand and squeezed her fingers between his. “We’re fugitives. We run, hide our tracks.” She smiled up at him. “We stick together.” He felt ready to kiss her again but shouting from the yard made them both jump.

People were looking for them. Natasha struggled out of his grip, pushing her hair back and fixing herself. He straightened her blouse but she giggled and stepped away from him. “Your hair,” she warned, turning away. He stuck his fingers in his hair, following her towards the door. She grinned up at him once before stepped out into the dark night. He took in a calming breath before following her.

_______________________

_Secret Avengers_

The Quinjet was still and dark. Just days before she had bled out on the floor. Natasha stared down at the spot on the ground and put a hand to her wound. It had healed well but there was still a long way to go to be normal again. At least part of this fugitive business kept you resting a good amount of the time. She would still slow them down if she wasn’t careful.

 _And you’ll kill yourself if you’re not careful._ She could just hear Steve saying it now. 

Natasha took in a deep breath and made a turn around the room. The cockpit filled with its number of switches and lights, buttons and locks seemed ready for her to take off. Ready for another mission. Definitely an adventure this time.

She had kept her promise that morning. She and Wanda had gone to the creek with all the Barton children, wading in the cool water and catching tadpoles. She cherished the moment, knowing it would be awhile since she was back at the farm. Wanda seemed to do the same.

Nick and Maria had left early. He didn’t seem too disappointed to hear she was going with Steve. He almost acted as if he’d always known she’d back out last minute. She supposed he knew her better than she expected sometimes.

And Steve? Well, he’d snatched touches with her ever since their time in the barn. They acted like friends again but tried not to be too obvious. Every fiber in her wanted to keep them a secret. It was still too precious, too fragile. She didn’t want to ruin anything. Yet, every time, he’d slide his fingers along hers as he passed, she was sure nothing could ruin it.

Natasha moved across the Quinjet into the armory station. Slots along the walls belonged to each Avenger. Tony and Thor’s names had long been replaced by Sam and Rhodey. Bruce’s slot was never full with anything but extra provisions as it still was. Wanda had used Clint’s slot but he managed to keep a few bows and arrows inside. She hardly carried weapons, anyway. Natasha found her slot and pulled it open, sliding her hand down the cool metal.

Unlike many of the others, so many guns filled her racks and shelves. Rhodey carried mostly parts and weapons for his suit. Steve carried anything he needed in the belt of his suit, maybe one or two guns, but his fists were more often enough weapons of their own. She couldn’t imagine what Vision carried in his slot. Sam and Clint carried guns but they still didn’t have as many hot babies as she did. She found her pistols, the Glocks and the knives first. The top rack carried extras for her suit. Widow Bites. Smoke bombs. Bullets. Along the last racks were her big guns. Her M4A1 with its grenade launcher, the rifles…

She frowned at the empty spot.

“If you’re looking for one of the big ones…” Steve called from the end of the ship. Natasha turned to him just to see a sheepish look on his face. He shrugged his shoulder. “She might have been left in Russia?”

“My M249 SAW?” Steve didn’t handle guns like that. Barnes would’ve used it. If anything, she hoped he had put it to good use.

Steve nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

She waved a hand to him and stepped back from the rack. “Just a gun.” She turned back, cocking an eyebrow. “He can buy me a new one later.”

Steve chuckled but then looked around the jet. “Guess we’ll be spending good time in here.”

Natasha nodded, pulling her eyes across the ceiling. “There will be safe houses. Hotels. We won’t be stuck in here.” She turned, pushing her slot back into the wall. Maria had supplied her with a new suit since it had been ruined in the RAFT and she had all the equipment she’d need. She was ready. “Fury wants us to go to France first,” she said, turning back to him.

Steve nodded. “It’s for the best?”

Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “I would ease us out of the States first. I have a few safe houses south of here. But maybe Nick’s right.”

“There’s another reason,” he said, stepping closer to her.

She stared at him for a moment before huffing. “Well, Tony’s down to just two Avengers now. One could be paralyzed for life. The other is almost just a toaster with feelings—”

“Nat,” Steve warned.

She shrugged her shoulders. “My point is…”

“We’re leaving him behind with a mess.”

“We’re the mess.”

Steve stared at her, sadly. “I know.” Natasha folded her arms over her chest as a silence settled between them. No matter what, Tony was family. He wouldn’t expose Clint and his farm. He wouldn’t expose Steve if he even knew where they were. He would never dare exposing Fury. But he would be on his own, basically. There were others, of course. The Spider kid was out there. Then again, he was just a kid. There was still talk of a Stephen Strange but he wasn’t an Avenger and didn’t sound trustworthy to her. Thor was out in space somewhere. He was always more friends with Steve than Tony and if Natasha knew him, he wouldn’t tie himself down to some paper with rules. He was a god, after all. And Bruce? She and Tony had already talked about him. _Are you sure he would even be on our side?_

No, Tony seemed on his own now.

Steve finally spoke. “I sent him a burner phone. Back before I left Wakanda.” Natasha straightened, listening carefully. “He can reach us anytime he wants.” He looked at her and smiled. “We’ll still be there for him.”

Natasha let her arms loose and took a step towards him. “That’s what you want?”

He nodded, walking towards her. “Yeah.” He reached for her hand and she squeezed his fingers. “Is that alright?” She nodded, stepping closer to him until she rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. “So… where do you want to go?”

She lifted her head a little. “You trust me?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

She bit her lip and pulled back to look at him. “I say we go to Florida first. A little experience under your belt before we move to another country.”

He nodded. “I’ll follow your lead, then.”

“First time for that,” she muttered, tugging away from his arms. He laughed but it was drowned out by voices and laughter floating in the ship. Natasha watched as Clint led his kids through a tour of the jet, Nathaniel up on his shoulders. Wanda followed behind, Laura’s arm around her shoulders. Scott and Sam came after, looking as if they were in some deep conversation about the jet’s manufacturing.

“Well, this is where Daddy will be for the next couple months,” Clint said, about as cheerily as he could. Lila looked amazed at everything around her but Cooper looked solemn at the sight. Nathaniel was just distracted by beating on his father’s head like he was a drum.

“You know I’ve been thinking,” Sam said, picking up his pace towards them. “Well, if we’re a team and we’re gonna be on missions, we oughta have a name.”

Steve and Natasha looked at each other before Steve turned back, shrugging his shoulders. “What do you suggest?”

“We’re still Avengers, though,” Scott said. Everyone looked at him and he shook his head, looking annoyed with himself. “I mean, well, you guys are.”

“I’m not sure about that, Scott,” Steve said, folding his arms over his chest. “The Accords took that away.” He looked around the room, at each face. “We’re on our own this time. Fugitives. Hiding. Undercover.”

It was quiet for a moment. Even Nathaniel has stopped his drumming. Natasha noticed Sam suddenly smirk. “Secret Avengers,” he declared.

Scott sniggered. “Sounds like a rock band.” In response, Sam shoved his shoulder and Scott actually staggered back.

But Natasha just watched them, contemplating. Their team did need a name, after all. What team didn’t need one? And after everything they had been through, it might have been a bit grounding to have a name. Natasha knew they all deserved it at least. They would be running for a long time, and for what it seemed like now, maybe forever.

While Sam and Scott argued and Clint and Wanda and Laura rolled their eyes, Steve turned to see Natasha smiling. He frowned, trying to read her. She shrugged her shoulders. “I kinda like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S THE END!! Ahh, it was so fun to write this and get all of your sweet kudos and comments! They meant the world!! I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. Stick around, though, hopefully I'll have some new ones coming out soon!! Sending big hugs!! --Caro <3


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